


Studio Wars

by Past_Tense



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 60,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Past_Tense/pseuds/Past_Tense
Summary: The 1930s Raymond Chandleresque Hollywood AU, that nobody asked for.Lexa does not die in this fic.Lexa is a PI,  Clarke is a journalist / editor.Clexa is endgame.Not the slowest of burns.No smut because I am rubbish at writing it.Fluff happens.
Relationships: Anya & Raven Reyes, Anya/Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. A funeral

**Author's Note:**

> Hi my first fic and I hope you enjoy it. PS I'm a Brit so know nothing of LA.

CHAPTER 1

Thursday 30th January Rosedale Cemetery LA 1300 hours.

This time of year Rosedale is a green haven, with its majestic palm trees and neatly kept lawns. Today, the rows of fancy memorials and humbler tombstones fade into the clinging mist that’s draped over LA on this chilly, wet afternoon; and Lexa Woods stands in that rain watching, as Maria Ocardi’s coffin is lowered into the gaping trench that is her grave. From beneath the brim of her fedora Lexa observes the many mourners carefully; a substantial slice of Hollywood’s best talent is getting wet at the graveside of this young woman, who had been gifted with great flair in the design and make-up of clothes. The galaxy of stars is very subdued, only the quietest of murmurs ripples out from the perfectly made-up lips of some of the world’s most beautiful women and their attendant men. The cemetery itself seems to have had a dulling effect on all present and the rain isn’t helping anyone, feel anything, other than misery. 

The short service ends and Lexa moves to speak to Marion, at whose behest she is in attendance at this funeral. “Miss Davies, I won’t take up your time now, but can your assistant contact me within the next few days to set up a meeting?” Marion’s beautiful lips upturn slightly and her eyes give an appreciative glance at Lexa before she replies. “Of course, I have cleared tomorrow for meetings”. She turns to the blonde man at her side. “Cedric set up a meeting with Miss Woods please.” Marion then moves away to talk to another luminary of the silver screen, leaving Lexa and Cedric to diarise an appointment for 10am the following day.

Lexa draws a small notebook and pencil from the pocket of her trench coat and quickly lists as many of the mourners as she can identify. Cedric, still at her side, helps her with the few she can’t readily put names to and she walks beside him as they move towards the waiting cars. Cedric is chatty and seems to enjoy his role as knowledgeable guide to the rich and famous of Hollywood 1930 and their hangers on. After a few minutes Lexa, with his help, has over thirty names on her list and they look over to the final group leaving the graveside.

“Of course, you know Freddie and Lucille Raspovic, Marlene, Charlie, Clara and Nia, but the second-string players with them are; Lorelei Tsing, she’s the well-dressed brunette standing by Freddie and positively fawning over him, Cece Queen is standing next to her and she’s wearing the most vilely coloured green hat I have ever seen. I suppose the black feathers are her idea of something suitably funerary. Her daughter Ontari is, like you Miss Woods, in full drag and looking almost as good, but I think you have the edge. The fact that she’s smoking one of her horrible Turkish cigarettes does detract slightly from her raffish charm. Somehow they smell worse than usual in the rain.”

Lexa’s eyes take in Ontari’s well-tailored dark three-piece man’s suit, black tie and brogues, the tilted trilby hat and flapping light-weight overcoat. It’s a smart look, quite sharp, but the lapels of the suit are outrageously wide and the softness to the shirt collar takes away some of the sharpness of the cut. Lexa thinks it’s quite effective as an ensemble and is unsurprised to see a monocle hanging from the black ribbon around Ontari’s neck. She’s more surprised at the cold look she’s receiving from Ontari’s dark eyes. Lexa gives herself a mental shake, has she met Ontari before?

With a quick goodbye to Cedric, Lexa completes her list of car number plates and makes a quick note of the names of the many newspaper reporters in attendance. She knows most of them well; in her professional life in Hollywood and central LA she’s had to work with the press on many occasions. An investigator, whether private or police, is always working with or against, some reporter or other who’s chasing a story or headline.  
Walking to her car Lexa takes out her pack of Gauloises and shakes out one of the short, strong smokes. She’s trying to quit but somehow wet miserable days bring out the need for the hot intake of smoke. A quick strike of a match and she can draw in the taste and memories of France 1921. She’s back in Paris, the war is over and she’s in love with Costia. A dulled pain awakens in Lexa’s chest at that memory. God how could she have been such a fool! She’d been through a war for Christ’s sake and should have known that love did not conquer all, especially when that love was doomed from the start. However, it’s the link to Costia that brings a particular memory back into focus. For there, standing at the bar of Le Monocle, flirting outrageously with Costia, is Ontari. Ah yes, Lexa remembers her now and that it was one of her better punches that had felled the persistent Ontari, when she had refused to accept Costia’s eventual rejection of her advances. Ontari’s glare is entirely understandable after all. Lexa takes another drag on her cigarette before extinguishing it under her shoe and hums a cheerful tune as she turns her collar up against the rain.

Later, sitting in her car, Lexa tucks the notebook away in an inner pocket and considers her next move. Her police contacts won’t be free for a few hours yet; she’s already arranged to meet Anya in The Grounders speakeasy at 8pm. That gives her just enough time to search Maria Ocardi’s apartment. Marion’s celebrity status is opening doors linked to the big studios and as Maria worked for Top Flight Studios and lived in the Studios’ own apartments, so Lexa is in possession of a key.

Driving her Citroen C4 roadster through the wet streets of central LA Lexa gives a passing glance to the bars, hotels and clubs of Pershing Square. Anya keeps pushing her to go on a night out to the Biltmore. Anya’s reasoning being, that even if Lexa isn’t looking for love these days, she can have a little fun can’t she? Humph, Lexa grumps to herself as she steers through the busy traffic. Then she has to stop and wait, while a young police officer has far too much fun, carrying pretty women over the fast-flowing streams that currently make up the streets of LA. 

Having parked a little way down the street from Maria’s apartment building, the Hobart Arms, Lexa dashes through the rain and into the main foyer. This is as big and flashy as you would expect for studio owned real estate, with white marble as the dominant material for its floors, front desk and walls. An unfortunate side effect of this is that the floors are dangerously slippery in wet weather and as Lexa skids in, keeping her balance with surprising grace, one youngster has the unenviable job of mopping up every treacherous drop of water that falls from her person. 

The concierge, a well-dressed, tall blonde of indeterminate age, name-badged Agnes, appraises her coolly. “May I help you? Perhaps a towel?”

“Lexa Woods to visit the apartment of Maria Ocardi deceased. I have a key.” Agnes’ response becomes, if anything, a little chillier and her eyes skid away from Lexa’s. “Apartment 411 on the fourth floor; the elevator is to your right.” She turns away and starts to walk to a small telephone switchboard hidden behind the massive marble front desk. 

“You’re a busy woman Agnes I know, but can I take a few minutes of your time? You know the circumstances of Miss Ocardi’s death?”

“Who doesn’t, the papers are full of gruesome details about how many times she was stabbed, how much blood, everything.” Agnes’ cool demeanour starts to crack and she is close to tears. 

“I mean her no disrespect and I’m not with the press.” Lexa emphasises the negative and shows Agnes her PI license. Of course, it doesn’t have the power or influence of her old Hollywood PD badge but it does add a veneer of respectability to her wanting to see a murdered woman’s apartment. “I’m here at the request of the Studio.” This last statement is a bit of a stretch; Marion is a star and very influential in Hollywood, but she isn’t even contracted to Top Flight Studios. Marion just knows everyone and generally gets what she wants, when she wants it. 

Lexa though, has referenced the Studio to some purpose; Agnes will be employed by Top Flight and must have some investment in keeping on the right side of her bosses. Clearly bracing herself against anticipated unpleasantness, Agnes invites Lexa into a small office located behind the foyer and away from the, by now goggling, youth mopping the floor.

The office is tiny but exquisitely tidy and organised. Lexa’s eye is appreciative of the ordered pigeon holes and dazzlingly clean surfaces. Agnes clearly runs a very tight ship indeed. “The papers have been impossible. Terry just sweeps the floors and he’s been offered money by at least three scandal sheets already for him to ‘spill the beans’ on Maria’s ‘exotic love life’, whatever they mean by that. I’ve had to close the switchboard down almost entirely, to stop incessant calls from New York, Chicago and even international papers. Even our own local, respectable papers like the Hollywood Echo have door-stepped this building and rung in to try and make appointments to speak to me or my residents. And of course, the Studio wants us to say nothing that isn’t “authorised” by them or their lawyers.” Lexa nods in understanding and sympathy, she just needs to keep Agnes talking; now that she’s started to see Lexa as part of the Studio’s management of the situation. She starts with, what she hopes in an encouraging opening…

“From what I’ve been told Maria was a talented and up and coming designer in Top Flight’s costume department. She’s lived here, alone, for the past three years and recently worked on Silent Sins, Gustus Trikru’s latest directorial project.” Lexa pauses hoping to encourage Agnes’ input.

“Oh yes, she was so thrilled to work with Gustus, such a great man of the cinema and so charming. Charlie, Claude and Brigit; all such great stars, adore working with him too and Silent Sins was a real opportunity for Maria to show what she could do within the biblical epic genre. She was so dedicated, hours, days, even weeks she spent away from her cosy home here, just working at the Studio. Even Lucy in 517 didn’t see her for days on end and they were best friends! Do you realise that she designed sixteen, sixteen! slightly different types of toga for the forum scenes alone.” Lexa hums encouragement and Agnes continues in this style of breathless praise for some time. Eventually however, the tone of her narrative changes slightly and Lexa has to feign indifference, as the Studio’s dirty linen begins to be aired. After some scathing comments about a certain female star’s hair colour, manners and foreign influences, Agnes begins to wind down her, by now, vituperative narrative. 

“Every studio has its’ difficulties of course and Freddie Raspovic is becoming a real problem, or so I have been told. Maria never said a thing about him, or his proclivities, but rumours do persist ….” Agnes seems hesitant to continue.

“Oh yes…” Lexa attempts to sound as if this isn’t news to her. “But he’s such a big star isn’t he?” She must not have sounded knowledgeable enough however, as Agnes decides at this point to close down this conversation, in favour of returning to the foyer and encouraging young Terry to mop with greater vigour at the latest drops of water cascading from the drenched coat of a returning resident. Lexa after discovering that Lucy in 517 is away on business until next Monday, cuts her losses and walks to the elevator.


	2. Searching for..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa searches for clues and Anya for love?

Chapter 2 

Thursday 30 January Hobart Arms Apartments LA 1500 hours.

The elevator is a mirrored box, probably another cleaning project for Terry under Agnes’ watchful eye. It is spotless, with each mirrored wall unblemished and reflecting back her own image. Lexa can’t help herself, as she visually checks her appearance and straightens her tie. The fourth floor’s travertine marble is more restful on the eyes than the foyer’s dazzling white and Lexa soon spots the police taped apartment door at apartment 411. The tape is already cut and hastily folded to one side. This is what Lexa expected, Anya told her that the police had found nothing of interest here and have released the apartment back to the Studio. Maria had no close relatives and so her possessions are to be disposed of by the Studio and the apartment will be cleared at the end of the week. 

Lexa lets herself into the dead woman’s home. In contrast to the sparkling order of the foyer and public areas the apartment is a blizzard of tossed documents, crumpled cloth samples and draped and pinned garments. Sketches of costumes, models, and a few candid caricatures of well-known movie stars are strewn about the floor. Chairs, couches and tables can be discerned only as shapeless lumps beneath the mountains of paper and clothing. Lexa blinks and feels her mind reel in horror at the disorder; no wonder the police found nothing, there’s just too much of everything, to allow you to find anything. She pauses to collect her thoughts, what is she looking for? That the police have taken all the financials is a given, she’ll get the low down on that later from Anya. She’s looking for the out of place, the unusual, things from the past that could inform the present, anything that could be a clue as to why the woman who lived here was brutally stabbed on the evening of Monday January 6th 1930. Lexa takes a deep breath and briefly checks out each room before she returns to the front door and mentally grids the living room in front of her. 

Over the next four hours she systematically, grid by grid, room by room searches. Her findings are meagre but not, she thinks, completely insignificant. She pauses to assess them.

First; there is a typewritten letter, part of the snow storm of paper in the main room. The letter is a litany of abuse and anger. If as appears likely, Maria was the unnamed recipient, she is referred to by the writer by a number of epithets including; a foul blackmailer, a social parasite and a heartless bitch. The letter is unsigned. 

Secondly; Lexa notices that there are a number of empty glassine envelopes (of the type used to protect photographic negatives) in the apartment. Yet Maria does not seem to possess a camera and although there are some photographic prints of costumes and movie sets to be found, there are no negatives. 

Finally, Maria’s professional life and training is well documented in a cardboard folder containing her educational certificates, letters of recommendation and a rather florid document from the House of Queen declaring Maria Ocardi to be a successful graduate from their Fashion in Film Programme of 1928. To be designing for Gustus Trikru’s biblical epic only two or three years later means she was truly outstanding as a designer, or she had some leverage. Lexa needs to find out what led to Maria’s rapid advancement. 

Lexa completes her search by 7.45 ; she pockets the anonymous letter, locks the apartment and heads out to meet Anya. She could do with a drink or three. 

Grounders Irish Speakeasy is within walking distance of the Hobart Arms and as the rain has stopped, Lexa decides to stretch her legs and makes the walk in a brisk twenty minutes. When she walks in she finds Lieutenant Anya Forester, not of course in uniform, gloomily supping beer with a moonshine chaser on the bar; Lexa orders the same and they take their drinks to a booth at the back of the bar. 

“Why so down?” prompts Lexa.

Anya takes a good pull of her drink. “We’re gonna lose Lincoln, he can’t take any more of Indra’s shit. He never wanted to join the force in the first place, she just made his life unbearable until he did. Now he’s been in for two years and she’s making his life unbearable anyway!”

She takes another long pull. “Being the son of the Captain was never going to be an easy ride but add in Indra as your mom - nightmare!” Lexa winces in sympathy. She loves Indra; a magnificent police officer, her mentor and supporter in Hollywood PD and an outstanding warrior of a woman; but as a mom, her only reaction is to shudder.  
“What’s he going to do?” 

“His dad left him a couple of grand when he died last year and he wants to open a boxing and fitness gym, with maybe some private security work on the side. When I left work tonight he was writing his resignation. He said he’ll come down here afterwards. We’d better get some drinks in, he’s going to need some liquid courage to go home at all!”

Both women down their shots, Lexa goes to the bar and orders another couple of rounds. Lincoln, massive and muscular in civvies, wanders in as she heads back to their booth; she beckons him to join them. He is as quiet and unobtrusive as someone his size can be, but he’s clearly a little unnerved as he downs his beer and chaser before he even sits down. Anya looks up at him. “You did it?”

He sits before answering. “I did it. She’s seen it. I ran.”

Anya and Lexa look at each other in alarm. Indra will probably steam in here wanting blood in about ten minutes. Anya dashes to the bar to get more drinks, including Indra’s favourite a Powers Gold Label, that in these days of prohibition costs a fortune.

Wrong, Indra made it in five! Out of habit all three of them stand as she arrives at their booth. “Sit!” They do.

Indra sips her whiskey, the other three gulp their beer. She turns her fierce dark eyes on her son and her proteges. “I get it, I’m a great cop but a lousy mother. I’m sorry son.” To say that she amazes them all is the understatement of the year, all three gape at her. “Police work isn’t for you Lincoln, it wasn’t for your father either but he had no choice. I lost sight of the fact that your father and I worked so hard to give you choices, not to take them away from you. Good luck son, I’ll support you in whatever you try next.” After that statement the evening degenerates into a night of drinking and remembering past glories and disasters. They get noisy, they get friendly with everybody, they sing old Irish songs for god’s sake!

At one point in the evening Lexa notices that Anya’s left their table and not returned. She’s a little concerned, as it’s become clear that Anya had been waiting for Lexa to arrive for some time, drinking all the while. At this point in the evening Anya is very drunk and Indra has already called for yellow cabs to get them home. “She’s over there.” Lincoln points to across the bar where Anya can be seen, on her knees, serenading a beautiful Latina woman who looks singularly unimpressed. “Shit, we’d better get over there.” Lexa almost sprints across the bar; on her arrival at Anya’s side Anya stops singing, to the relief of all who could hear her. She seems to have decided that slurred spoken words will press her suit more effectively. “Pretty, pretty lady. Marry me please. You are so pretty and you look so sad. We can be sad together. I’m sad and all alone.” Anya turns to Lexa, “All these ladies look sad Lexa. Lexa! Lincoln’s leaving me too, everybody leaves me?” Anya starts to sway. 

Lexa and by now Lincoln, who arrived a couple of seconds after her, are attempting to apologise for their best friend’s manners, drunken sadness, unusual behaviour and overall idiocy. “So, so, sorry, she’s not usually like this at all! Not at all! Please forgive her ….” They haul Anya to her feet. 

Anya recovers slightly and seems to remember that she needs to demonstrate some kind of game. “Pretty, pretty ladies, at least tell me your names.” A tiny brunette sitting next to Anya’s pretty Latina lady immediately pipes up “Don’t tell her your name Clarke! Oh fuck!” 

“Clarke?” echoes Lexa. This earns her a glare from the icy blue eyes of the beautiful blonde who is also sitting at the Latina’s table. 

Clarke rolls her eyes at her friend. “Thank-you so very much Octavia!”. She emphasises the name. “We need to go, I have to check the final proofs.” 

“Octavia?” echoes Lincoln.

My god, thinks Lexa, they’ll think we’re all imbeciles. She’s saved from further embarrassment by the Latina finally joining in. “You can tell heart sick here that I’m Raven and maybe, when she’s sober, I will listen to her apology.”   
At that, all three women leave the speakeasy and Lexa, Lincoln and Anya follow them with their eyes. 

They didn’t get to talk much about Maria Ocardi; so Anya, Lincoln and Lexa agree to meet up, at the Italian on Mainstreet Hollywood, tomorrow for coffee at 3pm.


	3. Clarke Griffin - The Hollywood Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is following in her father's footsteps

Chapter 3 

Thursday 30th January The offices of The Hollywood Echo 2350 hours

As she leaves the speakeasy with Octavia and Raven, Clarke’s thoughts are sombre, despite the comedy of dreadful singing and drunken marriage proposals. Raven’s one of the most beautiful women Clarke knows and it’s a common occurrence for someone to fall at her feet at some point on an evening out and usually it’s fun. But tonight wasn’t meant to be a fun night out, it was to have been a quiet drink with her closest friends before she formally takes up her father’s legacy. As Clarke walks towards her new office she sees the new shiny plaque on the door. “Clarke A. Griffin – Editor”. It’s what she’s always wanted, her own paper to write for and run, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this; not stepping into her father’s shoes a few days after his death. He smoked too much, Clarke’s mom Abby is a doctor and she was always telling Jake that smoking would kill him eventually and she was right. She didn’t want to be right, but she was this time and Jake Griffin’s death has broken the hearts of both the women he loved; his wife and his daughter.

Clarke braces herself and walks into the office, tomorrow’s galley proofs are on her desk waiting for her final approval, before the big presses run. So, she sits and starts her work at the Hollywood Echo; Hollywood’s very own locally owned and run newspaper. Later she checks the first papers as they roll hot off the presses. 

The headline is, of course, the Hollywood dress designer murder and Jasper, the crime correspondent has been busy; covering in the last few days, the scene of the crime, some basic background on the victim and in this edition, with pictures, the funeral and the many glittering stars that attended the ceremony. As a story, the murder has great potential to sell newspapers. The death itself was horrific, the victim suffering multiple stab wounds; the crime scene of Top Flight Studios’ back lot has the aura, if not the physical reality, of glamour and potentially most attractive to the readers is that the police appear to be baffled. There’s been no arrest and not even a hint of a suspect, if what Jasper has managed, or failed to find out, is true. 

Before she leaves for the night Clarke puts a note on Jasper’s desk setting up a meeting for tomorrow afternoon. She needs to get a better read on his abilities and to assess whether he’s up for really taking this story forward or is he just a hack with a few contacts in the local police. Jake was not a big fan of crime stories, local politics was more his thing, but Clarke’s recent experience as a reporter and later sub-editor on one of Chicago’s big papers, has taught her that crime and politics are very close bedfellows indeed. Maybe it’s time to put more resources into the Echo’s crime desk.

When she makes it back home to her tiny cottage off Long Canyon, she’s too buzzed to sleep and decides to unpack a few more boxes before turning in for the night. She stayed with her mom for the first few weeks of her return, wanting to be close to her parents and spend time with Jake while she could. He, desperate to leave the Echo in her capable hands, insisted that most of their time together was spent talking about the paper and the intricacies of its revenue, running costs and staff. Abby distraught and powerless in the face of his terminal illness, became a shadow of her normal managing self and just let them be; providing food and medications at regular intervals. They were both with him when he died seven days ago; his funeral was yesterday, a few hours before Maria Ocardi was laid to rest in the same cemetery. 

Now Clarke’s moved into her grandmother’s old cottage, the home Jake grew up in. It’s out of town but this gives her some distance from the Echo and its’ readers and she can drive her father’s old Vauxhall, so getting around isn’t a problem. She picks up a box and as she unpacks finds that it contains kitchen equipment, bathroom necessities and some jewellery? What the Fuck? Finn must have packed it. Her ex-husband tries hard to remain her friend, even after their split; but his big heart, so big it routinely encompasses love for a number of women simultaneously, usually outstrips his abilities. He’d helped her pack up after the news about her father’s illness sent her into a state of almost catatonic shock. Finn can sell just about anything to anybody, except re-marriage to Clarke, but order and routine is quite beyond him. She sighs, it was the right thing to leave and divorce him and to refuse his many suggestions and pleas that they re-marry; but she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t, once in a while, miss his company. Now, however, is not the time for memories of their good times; he’s in Chicago and likely to stay there; she’s in Hollywood carrying on her father’s legacy and working hard to keep the Echo going as a viable business, a good read and the employer of up to twenty dedicated staff. 

Friday 31st January Offices of The Hollywood Echo 1500 hours

Her next day is a busy one. She has meetings with sub-editors, advertisers, technical and print staff. It’s clear that Jake, even when he was ill, ran his paper effectively but inevitably things had started to slip in the last few weeks and she needs to take a strong grip on both the finance and editorial sides. 

Lunch is at her desk; her assistant Zoe Monroe, “just call me Monroe everybody does,” gets them both coffee and salami laden focaccia from the nearby Italian cafe. Yum. At three o’clock Jasper turns up looking haggard and without anything new on the Hollywood dress designer murder. Is it as she fears and he’s just a time server?

Clarke asks Monroe to hold her meetings for an hour. 

“Well Jasper, you’ve nothing new on the Ocardi murder? Take me through what you’ve been doing today.” Jasper’s response indicates that he’s not done much. Granted, he’s tapped his sources in Hollywood PD but they know, or are telling him, nothing. Jasper thinks they are stumped and so is he.

“What about where she lives or is anyone at Top Flight talking out of turn?”

Jasper shifts in his seat. “The Studio has all their staff on message. No-one is to say anything unauthorised. Everything goes via their lawyers. The vic’ lived in a Studio owned apartment and the concierge there is a complete stone bitch, immune to my charms or even the charms of a crisp twenty.”

Clarke is unsurprised that Jasper’s charms can be resisted, he looks particularly unimpressive today, wearing the smeared stain of some unidentifiable food-stuff on his tie. 

“Did she have a significant other or family nearby or flying in?”

“She’s from out of town, Lemoore near Fresno; no ascertainable family or sex buddies in or near LA.”

Jesus Christ, who has ‘sex buddies’ thinks Clarke, or even less likely, would admit to being one? She starts to rattle out some ideas.

“Any previous employer before the studio to talk to? What about the fashion side of things, did she design privately for clients or work with any of the fashion houses? Where did she train?” Jasper starts to look uncomfortable and clearly has no response to her ideas.

“OK Jasper, we’re going a little off your normal beat here aren’t we?” He gives a good impression of a drowning man clutching a straw as he nods in agreement. She decides to throw him a face saver. “Right, we need to consider the fashion side of things. I’ve done work with some of the big fashion houses in Chicago and New York so I can work with Harper to take that angle. Can you stay on the local PD and try to find out if any of her work colleagues, famous or not, have had run ins with the police at local, state or national level?”

Jasper, predictably, takes the face saver and heads to the archives to do some research before meeting up with his contact in Hollywood PD.

Clarke sighs and calls in Monroe. “Monroe is Harper around?” Harper has the fashion and movie pages under her remit.

Monroe smiles radiantly, “Sure, Harper’s in the news room typing up some copy. Apparently, she’s all in a flap about Marlene in a tux’, kissing a girl on screen. I’ve gotta’ get tickets for Morocco.”  
“Me too!” Clarke’s eyes widen in appreciation of that image and Monroe observes her reaction. Sure, who isn’t turned on thinking about Marlene Dietrich but Clarke’s blue eyes have a distinctly lustful hue as she considers Monroe’s words. 

Clarke rings down to the news room and soon Harper bustles past a giggling Monroe and sweeps into her office carrying three folders bursting with clippings and notes. “Oh boy” says Harper with a dramatic roll of her eyes, “have I got news for you.” Clarke grins and offers Harper a chair. Monroe pops her head around the office door and volunteers to go out to the Italian for coffee and castagnole. Clarke and Harper accept with glee, though Clarke silently schedules herself a brisk hike that evening to walk off the day’s Italian calories.


	4. The Client Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa starts to learn what Marion Davies interest in the case is.

Chapter 4

Friday 31 January The Castle LA 1000 hours.

It was a little before ten o’clock in the morning, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills. Lexa is wearing her dark green herringbone suit, with a white button-down shirt, collarless vest and paisley tie. She’s neat, sober (just), serious and everything the well-dressed private detective should be. She’s calling by appointment on the mistress of a man worth three billion dollars. A woman who, even without her lover’s influence, is a Hollywood legend.

The main hallway of the Castle is, as anticipated, colourful and splendid. By the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian Elephants, there’s enough impressive carved stone to populate a cemetery. Lexa however, finds the two stone warriors flanking the gateway decidedly unconvincing, as neither would be able to draw their massive swords without disembowelling themselves or at the very least tripping over their own weapons. A butler of stately demeanour takes her card and vanishes for some twenty minutes, during which Lexa is left to contemplate some heavy furniture, more cemetery standard stone carving and a number of tapestries depicting bloody battles. Gazing at the tapestries Lexa looks closely at the depictions of horses and wounded men. In wars, ancient or modern, flesh is demonstrated to be so very fragile and the horses always come off worst. She’d experienced war in France years ago, when she drove the ambulances that carried so many wounded to dressing stations, field hospitals and morgues. But no-one was there for the horses. The butler returns with Cedric and together the three of them journey into the Castle proper. After what feels uncannily like a journey through the Palace of Versailles, they arrive at a massive living room where Marion sits, seemingly at home on a sofa so large that it could seat at least six people. After everyone is seated Marion asks the butler, name of Boston, to bring in a tray of coffee. The butler leaves and Marion turns to Lexa. 

“Thank-you for attending the funeral yesterday Ms Woods on such short notice. Clearly I want to hire your services regarding the death of Maria Ocardi. Please work out the details of your charges and payment with Cedric later, in this meeting I want to outline the investigation I want you to conduct.”

“Thank-you for your confidence in me, but before you reveal any details I need to make it clear that I do not as part of my work obstruct or mislead the police. Yes, I do on occasion manage carefully the information I reveal to them, but I don’t conceal criminal activities or information relevant to open police investigations. I hope this is satisfactory.”

“Of course, that is more than acceptable. One of the things that recommends you for this particular job is your reputation for integrity and the management of your relationship with local law and order.” Marion pauses when the coffee arrives with Boston entering carrying a large silver tray. It’s solid silver from the physical strain she can see the butler is under; probably the coffee pot, milk and sugar bowls are solid silver too. Quite a work-out. Boston almost, but not quite, sighs with relief as he deposits the tray on a side table inlaid with delicate marquetry. He then leaves and Cedric serves them all, with very good coffee and tiny delicate pastries. Marion resumes her narrative. 

“The police are currently without a suspect or even a clue about this murder. This state of affairs will not last long. There will be a tip off in a day or so and the finger will point at a friend of mine, who I am confident is not Maria’s killer. However, I suspect that some evidence will be produced to support this tip off and that makes it dangerous for my friend. What I want you to do is, work with the police and look into this horrible murder in depth, make sure they don’t just go with the easy answer that the tip off will seemingly provide. I’ve spoken to Commissioner Jaha and he is keen to cooperate. You will formally join the investigative team lead by Lieutenant Forester, even though I will pay your fees.”

I bet he’s cooperative thinks Lexa, he’ll cooperate with anyone with power and Marion and her lover certainly have that, in spades. She’s bitter towards Jaha, but in all fairness he didn’t want to sack her when the scandal over Costia blew up. He just had to choose between sacking her on spurious grounds or losing his own job. Police Commissioners are appointed by the Mayor and Costia’s father was the Mayor at that time. So, Lexa, a decorated and competent lieutenant, supported as she was both by her Captain Indra and the Commissioner Jaha, was ignominiously sacked in August 1926. 

Marion pauses, this time to nibble her pastry and Lexa stays silent giving her time to consider her next words carefully. In Lexa’s experience silence is a very powerful prompter of confidences and relevant information. She’s not wrong, as Marion takes up her story.

“At the heart of this is a foolish man, Freddie Raspovic. I’m sure Miss Woods that in your professional life you’ve met a number of men who despite talent and intelligence are unable to keep it in their pants. Freddie is beautiful, talented and not entirely stupid but there are times when he will fuck anything or anyone. What’s worse is, at these vulnerable moments, he is usually out of his head on drink or drugs or both. So he and sometimes the studios that he has been contracted to, have had to deal with a number of blackmailers over the years. One such blackmailer was Maria Ocardi.”

Lexa has now taken out her notebook and makes some discreet notes as the story unfolds. 

“She was almost reasonable about it. All she wanted was a chance to work with Gustus. Okay, maybe she would always have made it to the top, she was after all a very good costume designer, but she wanted to get to the top fast and was prepared to use some dirty photos to get there. Stupid girl, good as she was, if it became known she’d stoop to that kind of thing she’d never make it to the very top. Trust is so important when you are dealing with real; god given, totally fucked up, talent. That’s one lesson she won’t learn now.”

Marion reaches for a cigarette and Cedric leaps up to light it for her. She proceeds to blow effortless smoke rings. Lexa does not make the mistake of reaching for her own smokes but she does start to contribute to the conversation.“If you expect a tip off, you’re anticipating a betrayal. Do you know who has it in for Freddie? Or who has it in, for someone who values Freddie?”

Lexa notes that at this point Cedric looks away from his employer. Lexa wonders if he knows that Marion is about to lie. “A very good question Miss Woods. Not the usual petty blackmailers for sure, they’d want to keep him in a position to pay. I don’t know who wants it done or why it will happen. I’m just aware that it’s in the offing. Freddie’s received a warning you see and he wants to run away. I hope that instructing you will stop him haring off to Mexico and confirming his guilt to everyone.”

The smoke rings disappear and Lexa’s conviction that Marion knows more than she is saying deepens. She pushes on this point again. “If he’s guilty or presumed guilty because he’s run off, who apart from Freddie will suffer?”  
“Freddie’s a very big star and the impact of him being found, or even just seriously considered, guilty; will impact across a fair proportion of the whole industry. Top Flight Studios, Gustus Trikru, Freddie’s wife Lucille who produces any number of comedy films, investors in Silent Sins, are just the start. Silent Sins in particular was a ridiculously expensive film to produce and Top Flight had to bring in outside investors just to get it finished. Even I invested in it”. 

Lexa looks at her notebook to deflect from the seriousness of her next question. “Will Freddie talk to me? Will he talk to the police?” “He’ll run rather than be arrested. If it can be managed for any interviews to take place in private, I know I can convince him to stay. That’s the best I can do, otherwise he’ll run as soon as the story breaks in the papers.”

Knowing that Marion’s lover has great influence in the world of newspapers Lexa almost doesn’t ask her next question but goes for it anyway. “Are the papers going to cooperate?”   
“If we can get the Hollywood Echo on board, yes. The big papers I’ve got covered. I need you to approach the Griffin woman, she’s a bit of an unknown, being so new. I think Freddie is prepared to offer her some exclusives to keep her sweet.”

“Do you know when the tip-off will be made and how?” “Freddie says he was warned yesterday, that it would be “within a week or so”. 

After this reminder that things are going to happen fairly quickly the meeting draws to a speedy conclusion and Lexa is shown out of the living room by Cedric and taken to his office. There they sort out Lexa’s contract and with Cedric’s help Lexa sets up an interview with Freddie that evening at 7 o’clock. Anticipating this to be a substantial case Lexa includes in her standard contract a clause that allows her to bring in extra help if she needs it. Maybe Lincoln will be available soon. It would be good to have someone reliable to share the work with.

Back at her own office Lexa has her PA Luna ring the Hollywood Echo to set up a meeting with their new editor Miss Griffin, an appointment is made for the following day Saturday at midday.


	5. Of Coffee and History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a brief meeting in a coffee shop and Clarke learns a little of Lexa's past.

Chapter 5

Friday 31st January Bonato’s Café Bar 1500 hours

Lexa walks into the café to be greeted by the glorious sound of hissing steam and the aroma of good strong coffee, with slight undertones of sugar and caramel. She breathes deeply to take in the warmth and comfort. Antonio Bonato greets her by name. “Lexa, it’s been too long. Where’ve you been my angel. Maria will only forgive your absence if you come to dinner soon and tell her all your adventures.”

Lexa grins and hugs her old friend. Antonio and his wife Maria came to California from northern Italy, political refugees from their country’s fascist dictatorship. Their businesses and family have thrived in California, despite the recent depression and they now have four café/restaurants, each run by a son of the family and this, the original business is Antonio’s own piece of heaven. Lexa's never worked out quite how the Bonato family managed to escape the clutches of the Italian mob, probably the politics of the old country were influential, but escape they did and Lexa gained a good friend. 

Lexa orders coffee for them all as Anya and Lincoln walk in and take an inconspicuous table at the back of the café. Anya looks distinctly hung over as she sips her latte and Lexa knows better than to bring up the shenanigans of the night before quite so soon. Lincoln buys them all a round of the sweet dough balls that the café is famous for and for a few minutes the only sound is the appreciative ingestion of sugary snacks and coffee. All feel better as their blood sugar rises. 

“What’s the latest on the dress designer murder?” Lexa starts the ball rolling. 

“Jaha’s got his panties in a twist. He’s seriously aggravated and it seems to be because you are to be involved in this one, in some semi-official capacity. Serious pressure has been brought to bear to get you in on it. What gives?” This is typical Anya, answer a question with a question and give nothing away.

Lexa has to be careful here. She needs to get the deal for Freddie in place before revealing too much about his status as a blackmail victim of the deceased. “My client’s convinced that someone’s going to try to derail the investigation with an attractive tip-off, that’s actually a red herring.”

“At this point I’d welcome any type of tip-off. The financials reveal nothing of interest, her best friend is away in New York until next week, on the surface she had no enemies, though quite how she got so high so fast is a little mysterious.” Anya looks Lexa in the eye. 

“I’ve got a line on a witness who could help with that little mystery,” says Lexa. “Anything at the scene of crime or from her work place that is of interest?” 

Anya knows she has to give something to Lexa to get more from her on the witness angle. “No witnesses to the crime, no fingerprints, fabric or evidence of any recognisable nature at the scene. If it hadn’t been so savage and just downright nasty as a crime, I’d almost have said it was professional, the scene was so clean.” 

Lincoln finishes the last dough ball and joins in. “It wouldn’t be the first time a professional has tried to make a hit look like a passionate or crazy amateur.”

Anya nods at him. “Yeah. It has that air of fabricated viciousness. There are lots of stab wounds, seven in total, but it was the first one that killed her. Death was pretty much instantaneous and that makes the other six wounds, window dressing.” 

Lexa licks her fingers to consume the last traces of delicious brown sugar.  
“I know I’ve been off the force for a few years now and none of my PI work has involved organised crime, but is costume design of interest to the mob?”

Anya leans back in her chair, clearly checking that they are not being overheard. “Films and fashion are very big money, it’s the money that draws them in.” Lexa whistles under her breath, of course the mob is interested. You can clean money in so many ways and if you think about it, films and fashion are made for it. She feels a fool for ignoring the possibility before. It also brings in a line of enquiry that doesn’t lead to Freddie Raspovic as the killer, but she still has to deal with the tip-off that will be coming through on the tips line soon. 

“She worked with Gustus Trikru, has he anything of interest to say?” Lexa leans back in her chair to wave a repeat order for more coffees to Antonio. She raises an eyebrow at Lincoln to check if he wants more pastries. He shakes his head gloomily.

Anya’s looking much more like a living human being at this point and almost smiles as she remembers her interview with Gustus. “The big fool is taking all the credit he can get for discovering Maria’s ‘genius’ and won’t say or hear a thing against her. In his view she is a ‘tragic loss’ to the industry and he can’t understand why anyone would rob him of her ‘magnificent designer’s eye’.” 

Lexa frowns “Is it a case of ‘he protests too much’. Could he be covering up hostility?”  
“It’s not coming over that way and it isn’t just him who thinks she was good. Some group of big wigs is talking about giving her some kind of award for her Silent Sins work.” 

They discuss various angles on the investigation as they sip their second round of coffees. Angles that, at the moment, are leading nowhere. After a particularly fruitless discussion about the kind of weapon used, a type of knife so common that Lexa could probably find one with an identical blade profile in her own and Antonio’s kitchens, Lexa decides to be brave and mention last night. She tries to sound casual as she opens this particular bag of worms. 

“Last night was a little weird Anya, Grounders don’t spike their drinks but do you actually know the woman you proposed to last night?”

Lincoln’s eyes drop to his cup. He’s notorious for avoiding emotional confrontations. His last girlfriend was so disgusted with his calm demeanour that she dumped him when he refused to punch a man who referred to her as “hot stuff”. All Lincoln said was that he agreed, she was ‘hot stuff’ and he wasn’t going to punch a man for having sound observational skills. He’s been single ever since, much to his mother’s disgust, Indra clearly has a wish for grandchildren.

Anya’s features take on a grumpy look. “S’nothing, I just miscalculated the strength of the moonshine and managed to make an idiot of myself.”

“You’ve great taste though, even when pissed, I thought.” Lincoln’s decided to join in, as Anya does not seem inclined to violence at this time. 

“Do you even know her name? Or want to?” Lexa is persistent.

“Humph.”

“Oh, so you don’t want me to tell you her name?” Lincoln is outright grinning at Lexa now, as she poses this question.

“Humph.”

“Or warn you that she has just entered the café with her friend Octavia?”  
Lexa has both their attentions now. Anya looks ready to flee and Lincoln is nervously straightening his tie.

Anya is panicking because ‘oh my god it is her’ and she is every bit as gorgeous as she was last night. She feels; sick, excited and an overwhelming rage at her own stupidity. She has to get out now!  
Anya stands up, anxious to leave before they are seen by the two friends.  
Lexa drops her key request just as she stands up, ready to go and pay for their coffees. “I’m seeing someone tonight about that red herring. If I can convince the witness to talk to you away from the station, can you keep their identity quiet unless you need them as a witness at any trial?” 

Anya frowns, she needs to get out of here fast, but Lexa’s terms are reasonable, if not particularly well timed. So, to grab a little power back she agrees, but imposes a twenty-four hour time limit on Lexa, she’s not halting her investigation to wait on some witness. So, all Lexa has to do is talk to Freddie tonight and get him to agree to be interviewed by Anya, at or before, 4 o’clock on the afternoon of Saturday 1st February. No pressure then.

They leave the café in haste, eyes to the floor and don’t notice the scathing look that Raven gives all three of them as they depart. 

Friday 31st January The offices of the Hollywood Echo 1630 hours.

Harper, resplendent in a burgundy coloured rayon day dress, sits with Clarke at her desk as they look through various pictures and magazine clippings of the costumes designed by Maria Ocardi for Silent Sins and a couple of earlier less well-known movies. Clarke, who’s been sitting at her desk for some hours now, is grateful for the comfort of her mid-calf tweed skirt and knit v-neck top. 

Harper is taking Clarke through some movie stills from Silent Sins. “She was very talented, a hard worker and a real stickler for detail. Her work on Secret Sins is outstanding and I know through the grapevine that Gustus Trikru is delighted with her work on the film. He’s telling everyone who will listen, that he spotted her talent and that he is now in despair at her early tragic demise. He’s put her forward for one of these new Academy Awards.” Harper pauses for a sip from her coffee.

“Will he give an interview about her?” Clarke’s thinking the story could be worth another headline, especially if she can link it with what looks to be one of the year’s big films.

Harper grins “Of course he will, he’s on the publicity circuit for Silent Sins. I already have a date with him for an interview next Friday. Do you want me to bring it forward?”

Clarke hesitates. “Maybe. What else do we know about her. Has she designed for any famous individuals? Where did she come from to get close to Gustus so quickly?”

Harper leafs through her notes and clippings. “Ah yes. Jasper bless him went through her history and training this morning. She’s a graduate from House of Queen’s Academy. Nia and Ontari blew him off when he tried for an interview, they wouldn’t deign to speak to a crime reporter, but I may have an in with them next Wednesday when they debut their Fall Collection. You probably have an invite in your in-tray Clarke, but it’s understandable if you’ve not got to it yet. I’m sure you’re up to your ears with everything.”

Clarke stands and pops out of her office to Monroe’s desk and asks her to look through her recent post for an invite to House of Queen’s show. Monroe is aware of the invite and finds it immediately. Clarke and Monroe walk back into her office. “You’re right, a fancy invitation to their show. I’ll reply to their RSVP and go, we can both go and if you introduce me to Nia or Ontari…. Hmm which would be best to try and get something interesting out of?”

“Weell”. Harper draws out the vowel in the word. “Nia is as cold and calculating as they come. All money and business, you won’t get gossip from her. But Ontari and I’m hoping that you aren’t easily offended Clarke, will love you. She likes a woman with a substantial rack and has been known to get a little out of control after a few drinks and there will be plenty of discreet booze at the show.” Clarke’s eyes almost pop out of her head, what the hell is Harper suggesting? 

Monroe glares at Harper. “Harper, there’s no way any woman in her right mind chooses to get close to Ontari Queen. I agree, no disrespect Clarke, that Ontari will go ape-shit for you. You’re just her type physically, but Clarke the rumours about her and by rumours I mean well substantiated facts in this particular instance, are nasty. Very nasty. Drugs and violence nasty.”

Harper jumps to her own defence. “I’m not suggesting that Clarke gets close to Ontari, just that we go to the show and interview her. You know it’s true Monroe, that Ontari is much more likely to say yes to an interview because she wants to look down Clarke’s cleavage!” 

Well that’s nothing new. Though it’s usually men Clarke’s had to remind that her eyes are “up here”. “OK, I get the picture. Ontari is a boob girl and a nasty creep. She will say yes to an interview, to look down my dress.”

“You’ve got it Clarke!” Harper is gleeful.

Monroe frowns, she’s very protective of her lover Harper, who can do a very good impression of an ‘air-head’ sometimes and the little she knows of Clarke she likes; so, both of them in Ontari’s orbit makes her nervous. She walks back to her desk to check Clarke’s diary, she had meant to tell her something but got distracted, what was it? She opens the diary, oh yes! She turns to put her head around Clarke’s door.

“Oh Clarke, I got a call from Luna, Lexa Woods’ PA, this morning, Lexa’s asked for a meeting with you tomorrow at 12.”

Harper lets out a squeak. “Lexa Woods the tennis player. She’s my hero. Oh my god! Clarke can I just get a little peep or maybe an autograph. Clarke please, pretty, pretty please!” 

Monroe her expression stoic and tone wryly dry, tells Harper to get a grip and stop embarrassing herself. Clarke wonders aloud who the hell is Lexa Woods and why does she want a meeting. Monroe gives her a little background.

“Lexa is currently a PI, she came back to Hollywood in, I think it was 1922 or 23. You’d just gone to Chicago Clarke so wouldn’t be here when she started to make an impact locally. She’s a native but spent a lot of time in Europe, her mother was British and she went to some posh school there. Anyway, she was in Europe during the Great War, she was just 17 I think when she was driving ambulances on battlefields. She was 19 when the war ended and she went to Paris for a few years.”

Harper sighs dramatically at the mention of Paris and earns a glare from Monroe.

“Anyway, she came back. She could have just played about with the monied crowd, as she inherited property from her parents; they died in some kind of accident in Europe? But she joined the Hollywood PD instead. Captain Indra took her under her wing and Lexa did well; made Sergeant and then Lieutenant, she even won a medal for busting some crime ring.”

Harper now takes up the story. “All the while, well after the war anyway, she played tennis like a goddess; they called her the Commander, she had such presence on court. She won everything going, sadly not Wimbledon though, as the tournament didn’t run during the Great War and afterwards in 1921 she got to the semi-finals, but had to pull out through injury. Then she and her lover Costia came back home, it was 1923 I’m sure and all went well until the shit really hit the fan in 1926, at Costia’s birthday party.”

Monroe’s leaning on the open door now, arms crossed. “People can’t seem to decide if she’s a hero; for her war, tennis and police awards or just notorious for being the woman caught knuckle deep in the mayor’s daughter and losing her job over it.”

Clarke’s eyes open wide and her mouth drops open. Harper frowns at Monroe’s vulgar language and tells her off for listening to exaggerated gossip.

Monroe is undeterred and grins back. “I think Lexa’s an okay person, but I don’t know her well. She moves in police and sports circles these days and has no real social presence in the town at all. I don’t blame her for keeping a low social profile after the Costia debacle, though frankly you’d think four years would be enough to mend a broken heart.”

“Some people are sensitive,” mutters Harper.

Monroe continues “She’s been a PI since 1926 when Costia’s father Mayor Abbadelli got her sacked from Hollywood PD. He was very well connected, had Commissioner Jaha by the balls and if rumours are to be believed, is in with the mob. Her reputation as a PI is good, she obviously has very good connections with local law enforcement and occasionally, to Harper’s delight, she plays tennis and even coaches some youngsters at local tennis clubs.”

“But why does this; paragon or vile seducer or whatever, want to see me tomorrow?”

“She didn’t say, Luna just asked for a meeting and muttered about ‘something of mutual advantage’. I can get you her file if you want?” Monroe slips out of the room again and returns to her desk.

“Yeah, get me that file please. Thanks.” Clarke calls to Monroe, then turns to Harper, “Let’s see what we can get out of Ontari on Wednesday before we talk to Gustus on Friday.”


	6. An Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa interviews the Raspovics.

Chapter 6

Friday 31st January The Towers, Beverley Hills, LA 1900 hours

Lexa pulls up at The Towers in her roadster. She brakes, the car comes to a standstill and for a few seconds she listens to the engine turn over. She’s not happy with the timing, it’s still just a little bit off and that meant that the car didn’t pull up the steep approach road to the Towers quite as well as she expected. She makes a mental note to work on finding a mechanic to help her with the temperamental machine. The basics she can deal with herself, but this problem is proving to be a trickier issue and not every mechanic in LA is familiar with French cars.

The Towers, compared to the Castle, is a modest fifteen-bedroom twenty bathrooms affair of stucco and beams in the mission revival style. The butler is also that bit less impressive and the five-minute wait after she has presented her card, is almost polite. On his return the butler leads her into a large open plan living area where both Freddie and Lucille Raspovic are sitting, a little tensely, in large art deco style geometric chairs. They rise as she enters the room and invite her to sit on a large sofa. She does so, noting that the sofa’s geometric beauty conceals a back-aching lack of comfort. 

Lucille asks Lexa if she would like a drink, as she and Freddie intend to continue drinking their cocktails. Lexa sees that they are drinking French 75, a mix of gin and champagne and decides to join them. As she hoped, this superficial camaraderie relaxes them slightly as they face what must be a difficult interview. It is again Lucille who takes the conversation forward, after the butler has served them all with fresh drinks and then left them alone. Lexa attempts to relax into the excruciating sofa. She fails miserably.

“Miss Woods, my husband and I have confidence in your discretion. Marion has assured us of your good reputation and I have done my own research and that also reassures us that nothing we say to you will be revealed to the police unless absolutely necessary. We understand your position as a licensed Private Investigator but I must make it absolutely clear than anything we tell you, that you are not obliged by law to reveal, must be kept in complete confidence.”

Lexa has had many discussions with clients and witnesses about the nature of her duty of confidentiality and how at times it must give way to her duty not to actively conceal crimes or mislead a police investigation. However, never before has it been so succinctly and clearly set out by someone who is not engaged in law enforcement! She’s impressed.

“Thank-you Mrs Raspovic, I’m gratified by your clear understanding of the matter and agree entirely to your request for confidentiality.” She pauses for all of them to sip their drinks before getting to the heart of the matter. “From what Miss Davies has told me, you, Mr Raspovic, expect to be implicated in the murder of Maria Ocardi by way of a police tip-off in the near future. Can you tell me the circumstances that have led you to this difficult position.”

Freddie Raspovic is regularly described in the popular press as one of the most beautiful men in the world rivalling; Rudolph Valentino, John Gilbert and Ronald Coleman among others. Observing him Lexa can appreciate the regularity of his features, his wavy hair and his strong physique. He was once an Olympic athlete and appears to have maintained some sort of training regime that keeps him trim and fit. His eyes however are dull and his expression a little sulky, but Lexa’s prepared to cut him some slack, who’s going to be at their best when facing a possible murder charge and likely revelations of the sexual activity that led to him being blackmailed by the victim.

It’s again Lucille who speaks. “Miss Woods, our marriage is unusual, even in the forward thinking 1930s. We have an open marriage and we both embrace all aspects of our sexuality. The world is not very understanding or kind about our kind of people and so we have on a number of occasions paid off blackmailers who have managed to get their hands on photographs of us, in what they call compromising circumstances.” She pauses and Lexa sees that Lucille is watching her closely, waiting perhaps to spot a judgmental gleam in Lexa’s eyes. Lexa schools her expression to neutrality, she has no idea what is going to be revealed, she just hopes it involves consenting adults; she will not cover up paedophilia.

“One such blackmailer was Maria Ocardi. She had pictures of Freddie engaged in lovemaking with some of his friends and threatened to reveal them to the papers and Top Flight, unless he used his influence to get her a position on the costume design team on Gustus’ film Silent Sins.“ 

Lexa watches both of them as Lucille speaks. Lucille is holding in strong feelings of anger and resentment; her whole body trembles with the strain of holding it back. Freddie is attempting to mask his feelings of humiliation and Lexa thinks, self-disgust. He isn’t angry, his dominant emotion appears to be shame. 

When Freddie finally speaks, his tone is low and hesitant. “I did as she asked. It wasn’t actually a hard thing to do as I didn’t need to lie to Gustus, she was an outstanding talent and just needed a chance to prove herself. When she got the contract from Top Flight she gave me the prints and negatives and I destroyed them. I thought that was it. I can’t say that what she did made me like or respect her as a person, but it certainly didn’t make me want to murder her.”

Lexa waits for a couple of seconds to see if silence will prompt more information. It does, as Freddie speaks again.

“I don’t know how she got the pictures; she certainly wasn’t invited to that party. It was very exclusive; many important people have sexual needs that the world thinks disgusting or wrong.” At that moment Lexa has the distinct impression that Freddie thinks that what happened at that party was, in whole or part, disgusting and wrong. She wonders if he was coerced or under the influence of drugs and did something he was now ashamed off. 

The interview lasts for over three hours. Lexa switches to non-alcoholic drinks after her first, but the Raspovic’s stay with their very alcoholic cocktails. Lucille, to Lexa’s surprise downs her drinks at some pace, Freddie is more careful and remains relatively sober as he explains; the nature of the photographs, who was in them, where they were taken, who was the instigator of that party and how Maria approached him about the photographs. 

The actual pictures and negatives were destroyed by Freddie. He accepts that to the general public they would be obscene and for some distressing. He describes the party as a ‘roman orgy’ and everyone involved as good friends. That said, he admits the pictures show him participating in role-playing violent sexual acts, including bondage and rape. If the public saw or knew of the pictures his career would be ruined. 

Lexa keeps a straight face through it all, though she inwardly bemoans the lack of imagination in people’s erotic fantasies; yet another roman orgy. More importantly she suspects that he is concealing something about this party, if not the pictures, that he is ashamed of. 

Towards the end of the second hour Lexa moves to a topic which clearly bemuses both Freddie and Lucille; that is, who would want to destroy his film career, damage Top Flight Studios and possibly inflict serious damage to the career of Gustus Trikru? Their answer is in their blank faces, they have no idea. 

The final hour is taken preparing Freddie for his interview with Anya. It will take place at the Towers at 4pm tomorrow, Lexa will be present. So, they go over again the main points; where was he at the time of the murder? As per usual on a Monday evening he was at home in his private gym, alone with no alibi witness. Freddie works out three evenings a week, with a mix of gym work and swimming laps, to keep him in shape. The usual work-out nights are Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and the 6th January was just like any other Monday. Lucille was at a friend’s playing bridge, again a regular engagement. How did Maria approach him? She approached him in April the previous year on the set of Egyptian Nights at Top Flight Studios, there were a few people around as they talked but no one close enough to overhear. Their later communications were mainly by telephone, though Freddie admits that the abusive letter Lexa found at Maria’s flat was from him. The prints and negatives were posted to him after she got the job with Gustus. That was in July of the same year. How was Freddie threatened with the tip-off? He was on set at Top Flight when he received a hand delivered message. He hands it to Lexa, who immediately places it into a clean envelope. The message is typed and reads…’IN A FEW DAYS FREDDIE THE POLICE WILL KNOW THAT YOU HAVE GOOD REASON TO WANT MARIA DEAD.’   
Well, thinks Lexa, it has the virtue of brevity!

Finally, there is the issue of newspaper coverage of any tip-off. Marion’s lover has nearly the whole of the newspaper world at his feet and he can effortlessly control the big papers. What is still independent and possibly dangerous is the Hollywood Echo. The new editor is an unknown factor. Whereas Jake Griffin was known to Hollywood PD as a reasonable man who loathed to print the salacious claims revealed by blackmailers and who would cooperate if the right deal was struck, his daughter is – who knows? 

Lexa is to meet with Miss Griffin tomorrow and hopes to strike a reasonable deal with her. Freddie is happy to give exclusives to the Echo to sweeten any deal. Lexa knows Anya will want to keep this out of the papers too, so there is a chance if Miss Griffin is reasonable, that they can control the press coverage while Lexa and Hollywood PD find out who did kill Maria Ocardi and why.

Returning home at close to midnight Lexa finds that Roma, who she met in France many years ago and who now runs her house and garden; has left her a round of cold beef sandwiches and a bottle of beer on a tray in the larder. She wolfs them down and then takes a few minutes to finish writing up her notes of the case and interview. 

She’s too buzzed to sleep, so she opens today’s Hollywood Echo to check the small ads for a mechanic who specialises in, or at least knows their way around, French cars. She notes down a couple of telephone numbers and addresses before reading the whole paper through. She can’t detect the new editor’s personality from one edition but it’s certainly well put together by a professional. Exhausted she makes it to her bed at about two in the morning.


	7. Meet sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last Clarke and Lexa meet. Raven is annoyed. Anya is annoying.

Chapter 7

Saturday 1st February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 1000 hours

Clarke’s at her desk for the second edition to go to print. Still nothing new on the costume designer murder but looking at the other morning papers no one else has anything worth headlining on it either.

Monroe doesn’t come in on a Saturday and the news desk only has a couple of staffers on, so the building is quiet. The Echo doesn’t publish a Sunday edition so Clarke can use Saturday to catch up on the week that has just ended. She’s going to her mom’s for dinner later and she makes a note to take a dessert from the Italian café to cheer her up. 

There’s a note from Monroe clipped to the slim folder in her in-tray. 

“Here’s the Lexa Woods file. Don’t look at the last section in the file unless you are sitting down. Harper took 15 minutes to recover from her ‘swoon’! Monroe” 

Clarke smiles and taking her assistant’s advice sits at her desk to read the file of clippings. There’s the basic birth, parents, residence information, that just confirms what Monroe and Harper have told her already about Lexa Woods’ family, tennis career and return from Europe. Lexa’s police career also gained some coverage, there are some significant arrests, successful trials, her medal for outstanding service and a couple of interviews. Her leaving Hollywood PD is a tiny story on page five; Clarke understands by this, that Jake didn’t want to make it into news but neither could he legitimately ignore it entirely as a story, so he buried it. The reason for her departure is noted as “unknown”. Her career as a Private Investigator is just that, ‘private’, there’s nothing at all in the file. 

The final section of the file has only one item, a large foolscap envelope with the legend “The Artists’ Costume Ball Summer 1926: Miss Abbadelli as Pola Negri in The Cheat and Miss Woods as Gloria Swanson in Beyond the Rocks. Clarke knows all about the Artists’ Costume Ball, it’s the party of the year in Hollywood’s Italian Quarter. When she was a little girl her parents would go, all dressed up; Jake handsome and smart in white tie and tails, Abby beautiful in a long glittery dress. So, she’s smiling at a happy memory when she pulls out the large photograph and flips it around to look at the print. 

She stops breathing for a moment. Two of the most beautiful women she has ever seen are smiling at each other and into a camera that clearly loves them both. They are both slim, with the fashionable boyish figures of the 1920s, stunningly dressed in the glorious costumes of their movie characters and so in love with each other that Clarke can almost taste it. She’s never seen a picture like it, bizarrely she wants to cry and has to look away for a second as she tears up. Wryly, she smiles at her own reaction. Then she stops and looks again. Remembering Thursday night and the tall woman in men’s clothing, who rescued her very drunk friend from singing, quite horribly, to Raven.

“Clarke” she had said, clicking the hard ‘K’ of her name. Clarke looks again at the picture and the radiant smiles of two girls in love. 

Saturday 1st February First Cars of Europe, Hollywood. 1100 hours.

Raven’s under an old Vauxhall 30-98 when she hears another car drive up to the garage’s forecourt. The engine cuts out, footsteps approach the jacked-up car and stop by Raven’s feet. Raven swings out from under the Vauxhall and looks up at the woman who must have just got out of the parked Citroen. Raven registers that she’s dressed smartly in a light wool man’s suit, blue shirt, patterned tie, hat and overcoat and that she is wearing two toned reporter shoes. She’s hot and if Raven remembers correctly, she has a hot friend who owes Raven an apology.

“Can I help you?” Raven’s attempt to clean the oil from her cheek just results in a larger smear and she’s still wiping her face when she stands up. 

Lexa is surprised that it’s a woman that appears from under the car, then chastises herself for being surprised. So, she pauses for a second before speaking. “Hrrmph. Hi, the name of your garage indicates knowledge of European cars, does that include Citroens?”

Not here to apologise for the friend then, thinks Raven. “It certainly does. Especially when the timings a bit glitchy, like it is on yours. It’s a known problem for the roadsters, they built them with timing arms that wear unevenly and then no matter what you do, it won’t time right unless you replace the whole arm.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, no wonder she couldn’t sort it herself. “Thanks, can you order in an original part?” “I can do better; I can get a German part that won’t wear unevenly and so the problem is cured and won’t recur.” 

Lexa is impressed, this woman really knows her stuff and …… she looks familiar. “That would be great, can you order one in for me now?”  
“I could, but I won’t.” Lexa starts in surprise. “Er, why not?”  
“I’ll order it, when you friend gets around to apologising to me, not before.” Lexa blinks, looks closely at the mechanic and recognition and some embarrassment floods in. “You’re Raven, right?”  
“Ah, the lady remembers.” Raven drops back to the floor and slides under the Vauxhall.   
Lexa is pissed and embarrassed and doesn’t quite know what to say or do. Raven is understandably annoyed with Anya, but it’s Lexa who’s getting the flack. She pauses for a second, then turns on her heel, returns to her car and drives off without saying another word.

After Lexa has driven off, a muttered “Fuck, fuck, fucketty, fuck!” is heard from under the Vauxhall.

Saturday 1st February. The Offices of the Hollywood Echo. 1200 hours.

The telephone on Clarke’s desk rings on the dot of 12.00, it’s Murphy on the front desk, saying that ‘a Lexa Woods’ is here to see her. Clarke looks up from the accountant’s report and double checks that the file she was reading on Lexa is well buried in one of her desk’s drawers, before asking Murphy to show her up.

Lexa rides up in the elevator to the third floor and following Murphy’s laconic directions walks along the corridor to her immediate right, to the end office. The desk, in the open outer office, is empty of any assistant so Lexa waits for a few moments in case the assistant is in with editor behind her closed door. No assistant appears, so Lexa enters the outer office and raises her fist to knock on the inner door as she reads its shiny plaque. “Clarke A. Griffin – Editor”. 

More than a little surprised on seeing that name she exclaims “Clarke?”  
as the door opens and the beautiful blonde woman from the fiasco on Thursday night, almost walks into her raised fist. Lexa steps back immediately, as does Clarke and they look at each other in consternation and both say “Sorry I….” before stopping to allow the other to speak. Silence falls. Clarke recovers first and starts her apology “I’m so sorry Murphy was supposed to show you up to my office, not just leave you to find your own way. I’m Clarke Griffin, do come in.” 

Wary from her other, very recent, encounter with a participant in Thursday night’s embarrassment, Lexa follows Clarke into her office in silence and closes the door. “How can I help you?” asks Clarke once she is sitting behind her desk. “Do sit down Miss Woods”. 

Lexa is having some difficulty putting together the appropriate words. Clarke Griffin, dressed casually in dark blue culottes and a white knit sweater, is making her head spin a little. So, she takes a couple of seconds to seat herself in the chair Clarke indicated. “Hrrmm” says Lexa, then she remembers why Clarke is currently the editor of the Hollywood Echo and hastily gives her condolences to Clarke upon her father’s death. “Thank-you” says Clarke, who finds it difficult to remain composed when reference is made to Jake. Lexa continues gently “I worked with your father on a number of occasions. He was always a good man to deal with on police matters. He had a strong sense of the rightness of things and wouldn’t allow his paper to be used to hurt the innocent or publish scandal for scandal’s sake.”

“Thank-you” says Clarke again “I couldn’t have had a better teacher or father.” Lexa sees Clarke’s distress and internally berates herself for being the immediate cause of it. What she wants to do is; comfort Clarke, to try to make her smile a little, to get to know her and be very gentle with this beautiful woman as she grieves for her father. Sadly, that’s not why she is here today, she has a job to do and must try to obtain Clarke’s cooperation for her client. Luckily for Lexa, Clarke’s method of coping with her own distress is to focus on business matters. “You asked to see me Miss Woods?”

“It’s Lexa please. Yes, I did. I’m sure you are aware Miss Griffin, of the murder of Maria Ocardi, your paper has run a number of articles on the victim and the police investigation. I, have been engaged to assist the police in investigating her murder.” Lexa sees Clarke’s eyebrows rise at her admission of the unusual circumstance; PIs are not usually welcomed into police investigations and Lexa’s given her this information for free. She can see Clarke wondering what Lexa wants in exchange.

“Please, it’s Clarke. I understand that the investigation has not made a great deal of progress yet.”

Lexa dodges responding directly to the gentle jibe and moves onto the point she wants to make. “We’re expecting an apparent break in the case soon. A tip-off, connecting a well-known figure to the victim. “

Clarke’s eyebrows rise again. “An apparent break?” 

“Yes, an allegation will be made against a prominent figure. To avoid unnecessary scandal Hollywood PD will investigate it thoroughly but discreetly. If the allegation is, as we suspect, false we avoid hurting an innocent party. What we really want to avoid is the ‘mud sticks’ type scenario, when a legitimate police investigation is used by the malicious to damage someone’s reputation. You know Clarke,” the way Lexa says her name makes Clarke shiver slightly, “how difficult it is to prove a negative.” Clarke’s head is nodding in understanding and sympathy but her blue eyes are calculating.

Lexa continues. “We also expect that the person behind the tip-off will go direct to the press, to air their allegations, if the police investigation doesn’t stir up enough publicity. I am prepared to admit,” Clarke’s eyes widen slightly at Lexa’s use of that phrase, “that the murder of Maria Ocardi is going to be very difficult to solve, if it ever is.” 

Clarke is now sitting back in her chair, her brilliant blue eyes boring into Lexa’s. “You know this tip-off is coming, how?

“The party concerned has received a threat to that effect.”

Clarke’s eyes are alight with interest and intelligence as she goes straight to the heart of the matter. “The tip-off will have some credibility, maybe even some persuasive evidence or Hollywood PD wouldn’t investigate it at all, never mind discreetly. There’s also what you refer to as the ‘mud sticks’ problem. Your ‘party’ may eventually be cleared of Maria Ocardi’s murder or it could be that it’s just never proved they did it, either outcome would be problematic for a person with a good reputation to maintain. Plus, who knows what could come out in that particularly dirty wash.” 

“Yes, you’ve got it in a nutshell.” It’s almost a relief to recognise in Clarke a skilled and experienced news reporter. She’s not got her current job just because she’s Jake Griffin’s daughter, she’s got it because she’s good. Lexa knows that they are at a key point in their conversation, now the negotiation begins for real. The only problem is she has so little to offer in exchange for the Hollywood Echo’s cooperation and frankly she expects that Clarke knows it. Clarke demonstrates that immediately as she asks, “what’s in it for the Echo?”

For the next hour they carefully engage in the negotiation of among other things; how long the Echo will hold back from publishing information that comes to them from Lexa or other sources, what exclusive information they will gain access to, what exclusive interviews they will be able to conduct and most importantly how this exchange of favours and information will be effected and communicated. The negotiation exhausts them both. 

Lexa, Clarke thinks, must be an outstanding poker player. She is. 

Clarke, thinks Lexa, is not only one of the most beautiful women she has ever met, she is also one of the fastest strategic thinkers. 

They part cordially and each with respect for the other. Their next meeting is to be on Sunday afternoon; to sketch out some exclusive articles the Echo could run on the following Monday and Tuesday. 

Saturday 1st February Pacific Coast Road, LA 1400 hours.

It’s almost two o’clock before Lexa returns to her roadster and drives to Anya’s cottage just off the Coast road. They plan to travel to The Towers together for the Freddie Raspovic interview. Anya’s cottage is surprisingly spacious with an open plan ground floor and two mezzanine level bedrooms. Her kitchen and dining area over-look the sea and Lexa begins to relax a little as she takes off her overcoat, shoes and jacket before stretching out on the long-padded window bench and getting lost in her thoughts. Anya’s been on the beach all morning and looks relaxed and fit when, a few minutes later, she brings in their lunch; a surprisingly tasty salad with cold cuts and crusty bread. 

Lexa starts to eat before raising the difficult topic of Thursday night. “I ran into Raven today; you know the woman you proposed to Thursday night and avoided at the café yesterday. She’s waiting for an apology from you.” Anya shrugs, the picture of indifference. “So what?” 

“So, do you want to marry her? Do you even know who she is?”

“She’s Raven Reyes, she has a garage specialising in European cars and she drives a taxi most nights. She’s probably a driver for Martinez’ booze runs”. Anya glares a challenge at Lexa, daring her to ask the question.

Lexa decides not to ask if Raven is also one of Martinez’ whores. She may not live to hear the answer. “My question still stands; do you want to ‘marry’ her? If you don’t, an apology is definitely in order. If you do, you need to apologise and work on your proposal technique.” 

Anya stomps away from the table, clatters their empty dishes into the sink and heads upstairs. “I need to get changed.”

Hmm muses Lexa, ‘marriage’ could be on the cards. 

Anya returns in smart civilian dress and they set out in Lexa’s car for The Towers. On the way they discuss the lack of developments in the case so far and where they can look for possible suspects or information.

Lucy Manilla, Maria’s best friend from apartment 517 is due back from her business trip on Monday. Anya is scheduled to interview her on Tuesday morning and she’d like Lexa along to help out. Lexa agrees. Maybe there’s something she can tell them about Maria that suggests a mob connection. It’s a pretty slim chance but Lucy must be interviewed. Lexa and Anya consider if Lucy could be in any danger. She’s cooperated so far, giving a very short interview to New York PD that contained nothing of interest. However, Anya wasn’t convinced by the NYPD officer’s bland line of questioning and she thinks Lucy may still have worthwhile information. If that’s the case she may be in danger and Anya plans to put a tail on her at the airport, when she flies back on Monday night. 

Lexa wants to look at why the tip-off is happening at all. Freddie isn’t being blackmailed, the tipster hasn’t demanded cash or favours from him in return for silence. Instead he’s been warned about the tip-off, presumably so he panics and runs; effectively pleading guilty with his feet. 

If the mob is involved, it has to be about money or reputation; how would killing Maria and ruining Freddie make somebody rich or make or break someone else’s reputation? Lexa needs to research the key players.

With the suspicion that it’s a mob hit, there’s also a chance that local snitches will have some information to sell. Anya and Lincoln are ready to pull in all local informants on a sweep next week. She’s hiding their real intent under one of Jaha’s ‘clean the streets’ initiatives. 

There’s also the issue of using the Hollywood Echo to best effect, not just their cooperation in holding back information but also as a way to get material out there that provokes a response from the killer or the organisation behind him. It also gives the Echo exclusives, payback in their complicated alliance of sorts. They’ve got a few ideas to run past Clarke tomorrow. 

In his interview Freddie gives a word-perfect performance, whilst Lexa and Anya sit on the excruciatingly uncomfortable sofa. Who knew he could actually learn lines and act? Lexa would have applauded, if her back hadn’t been in spasm.


	8. Apologies are made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies and tip offs. Anya spots Clexa potential.

Chapter 8

Saturday 1st February The Cubist Speakeasy Hollywood 2200 hours.

Anya’s in uniform manhandling drunks into the police wagon after a raid, instigated by prohibition agents, on a speakeasy off Melrose Ave. Most of the patrons of the speakeasy are long gone before the police arrived, only the pretty much horizontal are left. There’d be a tip off, so most would escape. There’s almost always a tip-off, prohibition is not popular in California and otherwise law-abiding folk will bend these rules without a guilty thought.

The drunks are processed, the illicit booze poured away and at midnight Anya’s shift is over. Bone tired she heads out to her car and starts the drive home. As she passes the garage First Cars of Hollywood she sees that the lights are on even though its’ big doors are shut. She needs to get this apology business over with, so she pulls in a few doors down from the garage and walks onto the forecourt. A lozenge of yellow light escapes from the wicket door, which swings open as she approaches. She can hear voices, including Raven’s, she pauses for a moment as she wants privacy for this apology. Then there’s a muffled smack and a cry of pain, Anya moves towards the sound and cautiously looks in through the door. Raven is bent double on the floor and a thickset blonde man is leaning over her, pulling his arm back for another punch. “Reyes make it easy on yourself, you’ve driven for Martinez for years. We know, you know where..”  
Anya’s heard enough; she steps though the door pistol drawn. “Leave her be Billings. You filing a complaint Miss Reyes?”  
Raven looks up and gives a choked “No, it’s just a misunderstanding. These gentlemen are leaving now.”  
Billings and his partner Cokey, both well known to the local police, glare at Raven and Anya and Anya’s pistol, before moving towards the open door. Anya moves and before Billings has a chance to react she pistol whips him across the face and relieves him of the gun he has in his pocket. “Don’t come back Billings, don’t come near Miss Reyes, I’ll always know where to find you if you do.” Cokey, under Anya’s harsh glare surrenders his piece too. Clutching his cheek Billings urges Cokey to leave and they both pass through the small door into the night. Anya holsters her pistol, puts the two she’s lifted from the goons onto the workbench, shuts and locks the door then drops to the floor to help Raven up. 

“I’m OK”. Raven makes it to a stand and looks down at Anya. “So, you’re a cop”. She winces a little as she straightens and Anya stands and guides her to sit in a nearby chair. “What were you doing in a speakeasy on Thursday?”

“Getting drunk.” Anya looks anywhere but at Raven, the garage’s walls have a sudden fascination for her. 

“Not big with the words when sober are you?”

Anya braces herself and goes for it. “About Thursday night, I was out of line, I’m sorry.” There, saying the words isn’t that hard, Anya is relieved to get them out. 

Raven’s not going to let her off the hook that easily. “Oh, so I don’t need to start collecting my trousseau then?” Anya goes an unbecoming shade of pink and starts to splutter. “Oh god, I mean, fuck, you’re beautiful and amazing, fuck and everything. And yes! Fuck anyone’d be lucky to marry you, but .. oh fuck!” Raven’s laughing now. “Don’t worry I’m not going to sue for breach of promise. I may even forgive you after your help tonight and you can tell your friend I’ve ordered the part for her Citroen.”

Anya looks at the beautiful and intriguing woman in front of her. She first noticed her months ago. A mouthy Latina with attitude to spare taxiing Martinez’ whores and booze around the city. Since then she’s watched for her, not in a creepy way she tells herself, just looking out for her on the street or checking the garage is safe and shut out of hours. And now she wants to touch her so very, very badly; but they are likely to be a disaster together, even if Raven was interested; a cop and a driver for a mobster for god’s sake. She sighs, puts her hands firmly into her pockets and prepares to leave. She’s standing by the door when she says. “They may come back. You’re known to drive for Martinez and clearly they think you know something important, like oh maybe, where you drive to and from sometimes.”

“I haven’t driven for Martinez on a booze run for months. Now, I drive a taxi that I own, at last; and this garage, it’s a rented space and surprising enough in these hard times, it’s making money. I’ve paid off my debt to him and any routes I did drive are likely changed now.” 

“If you told that to Billings, he didn’t seem very convinced.” 

Raven shrugs, “what can I do? I may have to take a beating to convince his boss. I hope it’s not Billings who delivers it, he’ll be mad.” Anya outright growls, “if he touches you he’s dead.” Raven looks her in the eye, “Mighty protective for someone who doesn’t want to be my fiancé.”  
Anya’s back looking at the walls again, fists in her pocket and her whole-body shaking with the effort it takes to stop herself moving closer to Raven. 

Raven decides to take control and crosses the garage floor to where Anya is standing. She slides her hand around the back of Anya’s neck and pulls her down into a hard kiss. Anya groans as their lips touch, her arms wrap around Raven and crushes their bodies together. Raven’s hands move to cradle Anya’s face and after a few moments she pulls back from their kiss to look at her. Anya’s eyes are closed, there’s a tear on her cheek, Raven gently kisses it away and realises that Anya, strong and fierce as she is, needs tenderness too. She kisses Anya’s cheek and eyelids and then just holds her close, while Anya buries her face in Raven’s neck, kissing her collar-bone beneath the open shirt and nipping and kissing her neck and ear. 

Raven’s tone is gentle. “This is all a bit fast, maybe we should do something wildly mundane, like go on a date.”

Anya raises her head, but keeps her arms around Raven. “Hmm yes” she kisses Raven’s forehead. “The Biltmore is holding a ‘special’ night on Thursday, be my date?” Raven nods, “sounds fancy. You’ll look gorgeous in a tux.” Anya hums, kisses Raven on the lips; “you’ll look gorgeous in anything; don’t know how I’ll make it to Thursday.” Raven kisses her back, soundly. 

Sunday 2nd February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 1100 hours 

Clarke is a little surprised to see who Lexa introduces as Lieutenant Anya Forester, but once the initial moment of embarrassment passes the meeting goes well. Anya is happy to have the possibility of mob involvement in Maria Ocardi’s murder aired, it gives the impression of some sort of progress on the case and Clarke gets an exclusive for the first edition on Monday. 

The, much anticipated, tip-off hasn’t materialised yet, so the name of the ‘party’ Lexa’s protecting is not yet up for discussion with Clarke. The agreement is that as soon as the tip-off happens Clarke is informed, so she can get her people looking for potential reasons why that particular ‘party’ is being targeted. She also gets another exclusive interview with Anya to publicise the fact that a tip-off has been received and is being investigated, but no names will be revealed in the Echo. Lexa’s already got her PA and researcher Luna on the case, trying to find out why Freddie is the target. She hopes that Clarke’s business and crime teams, the Blakes and Jasper, will be able to help Luna once they are on board.

There’s another possibility for an exclusive if the sweep under Jaha’s ‘clean streets’ initiative brings up any further leads. The sweep is scheduled for Tuesday 4th February at 0400, well before dawn. 

Anya yawns as their meeting draws to a close, it’s been a busy 24 hours. She glances at Lexa, “Tuesday will be Lincoln’s last day on the job. You’ve met Lincoln, Clarke, he was the other kind person trying to rescue me from myself on Thursday night. I hope I didn’t cause you any offence when I was totally out of my mind, I don’t know what came over me. I have apologised to Miss Reyes.” Anya doesn’t yet feel comfortable referring to ‘Raven’ as Raven yet. She hopes that will come with time. Lexa seems delighted to hear the news. “Ah, so she’ll fix my car for me?” “Yeah, she says she’s already ordered the part.”

Clarke smiles, a little wryly. Anya’s singing and proposal to Raven had in fact lightened the mood slightly on a pretty grim evening. She, Raven and Octavia had been having a quiet drink and chat, before she went to her office to formally take over her father’s newspaper. They had been sharing memories of Jake and it had been, at times, a tearful evening; until Anya showed up and started to sing. “I can’t say I’ll be publishing reviews of your singing career any time soon Lieutenant.” Anya winces, but as she looks away she sees, in the corner of her eye, Lexa smiling and looking at Clarke; with what can only be described as serious intent. 

Well, well, well, it’s about time, thinks Anya. Yes, the ending of Lexa’s relationship with Costia was very traumatic. After the pair were discovered in bed by Costia’s mother, Costia had ended her five-year relationship with Lexa in a coolly worded letter. In the letter Lexa was told that she was ‘a socially unacceptable phase’ in Costia’s life and now Costia was moving on to her ‘real’ life. Yes, Lexa had always known that Costia had long term plans that involved marrying a man and having many children but Anya knew that Lexa, whatever Costia had said, did have ‘hopes’ of them having a life together. Costia married, a known Italian mobster Guido ‘Diamonds’ Peroni, three months after the break with Lexa and everyone who knew her was aghast. Yet the marriage appears to be a happy one, four years and four children later. Costia moved with Guido to New York in 1928 and is rumoured to be pregnant again. Lexa however, has never really moved on, not a flicker of interest in anyone, until now. Anya needs to talk to Raven about Clarke, for Lexa’s sake of course; an excellent excuse to drop by the garage later today. 

Monday 3rd February Hollywood PD 1500 hours 

The offices of Hollywood PD are spotlessly clean, floors swept and waxed with lavender polish, the wood partitions and bannisters of the front desk polished to a gleaming brightness and any brass or chrome fittings dazzle the eyes. The big filing cabinets are safely locked and the desks of the detectives and typists are neat and orderly. In the main office space are a number of uniformed and plain clothes officers at their desks, some writing reports, others on the telephone or in talks with technicians. Doors open off this main area to corridors of interview rooms, holding cells and the private offices of those ranked higher than sergeant. Uniformed officers walk between the front desk and various office locations with a quick step and an intent demeanour. 

The department tip-line is housed in a small booth, separated from the main office by frosted glass panelling. Sergeant Ryder, massive in his uniform and taking up almost all the space and air in the small booth, takes the call on the tip-line at 1500 hours. 

A bland male voice intones the message. “There’s interesting evidence on the Maria Ocardi case in a plain envelope in the public phone booth at the Hollywood Bar, Main Street. Freddie Raspovic had plenty of reason to kill her.” 

Ryder knows Lieutenant Forester is waiting for a tip-off and that the tip-off is to remain absolutely confidential. So, he notes down the call in full and goes himself to the Lieutenant’s office, taking his note of the call with him. Anya reads the note and locks it in her safe. Ryder goes back to the tip line with Anya’s thanks and a reminder of the need for secrecy. Anya immediately calls Lexa and suggests Lexa goes to see Clarke to give her the details of the tip-off. She is to wait with Clarke until Anya arrives to brief them both about the evidence in the envelope. Lincoln is sent to the Hollywood Bar to collect the envelope. 

The Hollywood Bar is part of the very classy Hollywood First hotel and the manager is not happy to have a large uniformed police officer on the premises. Lincoln does not take no for an answer and politely but firmly makes his way to the public telephone booth at the back of the bar. As he walks through the bar, he can see that the tipster has chosen a good location to leave the envelope and maybe even make the call, without much chance of being seen. The bar is empty and the telephone booth is at the back of the bar, off a short corridor that has direct access to the front lobby. It’s easy to get to the booth without attracting the bar tender’s notice, though anyone avoiding the bar entirely would have to go through the front lobby and past the doorman. The booth itself is a small dark wood framed box with the telephone on the wall and a small wooden stool for the caller to sit on while using the telephone. A large envelope is on the stool and Lincoln picks it up in his leather gloved hand and places it in a large paper bag. He carefully closes the door to the booth and tapes it off. Murray and Spitz, fingerprint specialist and photographer respectively, are on their way and in fact arrive just as Lincoln is having strong words with the manager about no one touching the booth or its contents. 

With any evidence in the booth under Murray and Spitz’ control Lincoln hurries back to Anya with the envelope. 

Inside the envelope Anya’s gloved fingers find a typed note and another envelope containing three photographs. In all three photographs Freddie Raspovic is very easy to identify as the naked man in the centre of the images. In all three his eyes are blindfolded and his hands are bound behind him; his open mouth is filled with a large erect cock the owner of which is not identifiable. Freddie’s cock is concealed from view by the back view of the naked woman who is giving him head. All three images are slightly different views of the same activity. Only Freddie is identifiable. The typed note reads: - “Freddie Raspovic was blackmailed by Maria Ocardi over pictures like this. This is why she is dead.” 

Anya locks the pictures and note in her safe and leaves for Clarke’s office. Lincoln is to return to the Hollywood First hotel to speak to the doorman and any other staff who had eyes on the front lobby, bar or telephone booth.

Monday 3rd February Offices of the Hollywood Echo 1600 hours 

At the Echo Anya is shown into the editor’s office by Monroe, who then offers to go and get them all coffee from Bonato’s. Clarke endorses that idea and when Monroe has left Anya gets straight to the point. “Well, what do you think of the identity of the “party” Clarke?” 

Clarke rises from behind her desk and from the top of the filing cabinet behind her picks up three substantial paper folders. She settles back behind her desk to scan them as she speaks. “He’s almost custom made to take the fall for something like this. In our files he’s a known blackmail risk. He’s never been arrested for indecency or any sexual misconduct but it’s known he likes his sex on the wild side and so does his wife. Drugs and booze and the almost inevitable organised crime connections are there as well. As an actor he’s reasonable, he’s not just a pretty face and a good body. As a person, he’s bad tempered, arrogant and has been known to throw the odd punch but this could describe many others who make the amount of money he does. Top Flight are said to be running out of patience with him but they can’t find a star big enough to take his place. Claude Milan was trailed to be their next big star, but the fans haven’t really taken to him yet and his last film ‘The Hero’ wasn’t a flop, but neither did it make enough at the box office.”

Monroe arrives with the coffees and Lexa helps her and Clarke distribute them and the inevitable pastries. “God,” says Clarke “I’m going to have to start some kind of training regime to keep the weight off if Monroe keeps bringing me these!” 

Lexa, between bites of pastry says. “Our friend Lincoln Birler is going to open a gym near here in the next couple of weeks, I can get him to leave the details for you if you like. It will be a bit macho I suppose but I intend to train there, how about you Anya?”

Anya is also sipping and chewing. “Hmmm, yes and I know Indra is sending some of her support team from the department there, so it won’t be entirely male. I plan to run a few fitness classes myself.” Lexa’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “I’ve never known you to moonlight Anya?” 

“This stupid prohibition stuff is getting me down and the widespread corruption in politics, I needn’t tell you Lex. I don’t know if Indra can take much more of Jaha’s posturing either.” Lexa shrugs and turns away to look at Clarke, who is looking down at a file whilst wiping sugar off her fingers with a large man’s handkerchief. Clarke looks up, “I’m going to get the Blakes on the financials for Raspovic and Top Flight; that might find us some backdoor funders or weaknesses in the books that makes them vulnerable to a takeover or mob involvement. I’ll get them to contact Luna, Lexa, so we don’t go over the same material twice.” 

Anya hands Clarke a typed statement about the tip-off. “I’m sorry it’s so bland but I won’t be giving this to out to any other papers until the news conference at 1800. It gives you a little time ahead of the pack.” Clarke takes it and grins. “Every little helps.”

Lexa looks across to Anya. “The sweep at dawn tomorrow, when do you expect to pick up those with anything to sell?” 

Anya gives a characteristic shrug, “if things go to plan we should have something by mid-morning. I’m just hoping it’s worth the effort, otherwise it’s a faint hope that the ‘best friend’ has something new to say or Freddie!”

“Or something we’ve not even thought of yet.” Lexa rises from her chair and puts on her jacket and overcoat. “Thank-you Clarke. I’ll tell Luna to expect a call from the Blakes.”

Clarke smiles at Lexa and there’s a definite shy smile in return. Excellent progress thinks Anya. Yesterday evening, when Anya had dropped round to the garage to see Raven to find out what she could about Clarke, Raven had not been willing to discuss her friend’s love life and Anya respects that. But some hints were dropped about Clarke’s life in Chicago before she married, the serial adulterer, Finn Collins. Anyway, Anya’s not too unhappy about the lack of information about Clarke; she had spent a very agreeable hour or two in Raven’s company in the back of a Deusenberg Model J. 

On their way out of the Echo’s offices Anya takes Lexa aside. “The photos with the tip off are not the same as those described by Freddie. You’d best have a look at them and maybe we need to talk to Freddie again.” They travel together to Anya’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried not to make Costia a total bitch, it doesn't seem fair. Not sure I really succeeded.


	9. The Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made in finding the killer. We see Lexa and Anya in action.   
> Clexa next chaper.

Chapter 9

Monday 3rd February Mines Field Airfield, LA 1900 hours

The engines of the approaching aircraft scream for a few seconds before its’ flaps rise and wheels bump onto the ground of Mines Field. The dirt surface of the airfield is a little skiddy and the Boeing almost aquaplanes, but the pilot pulls it around and eventually it slows to a halt. Flying is not the safest way to travel and you need strong nerves, as well as money, to choose this, the speediest, method to get from New York to Los Angeles. As soon as the aircraft comes to a halt, uniformed and overall wearing, staff swarm over to the plane and sets of wheeled metal steps are rolled into place and secured to the aircraft’s side and rear doors. Luggage is thrown or handed down to waiting porters and it’s only a few minutes before the thirty or so passengers, all looking tired and some clearly the worse for wear, walk carefully down the steps. You can almost hear their sighs of relief. The sun has just set and darkness is making its way across the airfield as the passengers’ peer hopefully towards the headlights of the twenty or so taxicabs and various private cars that are on hand to pick up these, exhausted, rich folk. Officer Penn of Hollywood PD’s plain clothes detail, is waiting for Lucy Manilla of Top Flight Studios to make her way to her waiting car. 

Miss Manilla, well wrapped up against the cold in a calf length wool and cashmere tweed suit and enormous fox fur stole, looks a little shaky as she walks towards the driver who holds up a card, illuminated by the headlights of his car, clearly printed with the words ‘Top Flight’. The driver, opens the car’s door for her and tips the porter who, with his laden trolly, has brought over Miss Manilla’s many bags and packages. Once all the luggage is stowed the car moves off at a stately pace, one of many driving away from the airfield and into the city. Officer Penn joins the convoy a few cars back, his colleague Tybalt is in the airfield’s main building telephoning Lieutenant Forester to let her know that Miss Manilla has landed safely and Penn is following her by car, presumably to her home. Tybalt will take a cab to the Hobart Arms later to relieve Penn.

Darkness is falling and the humidity in LA is high; Penn has to use his car’s windscreen wipers a few times to clear the fine droplets. The cars wend their way into the darkening city, headlights marking their route. The convoy thins out as they enter the city proper, until as they approach the junction for the Hobart Arms apartments it is just Miss Manilla’s car and Penn’s that turn into the street. Penn drives a little past the building and pulls in; he can see Miss Manilla, who is huddled into her stole, and her driver as they leave the car and head into the foyer of the Studio’s apartments. Penn puts on his hat and leaves his car; as he approaches the foyer he can see a few people, coat collars up and hats pulled down against the swirling mist-rain, milling around the entrance. A large uniformed doorman is helping the driver with Miss Manilla’s many bags and Penn tries to be inconspicuous as he lingers near the foyer’s entrance doors to observe Miss Manilla as she walks through the foyer; she throws back her fur and exchanges a few words with the concierge, before she enters the building’s elevator that rises uninterrupted the five floors to where her penthouse apartment is located. 

Moving away from the entrance Penn has a few words with the doorman. “Miserable weather, this clingy mist.” Eric the doorman shrugs, his uniform is never comfortable; it’s California so even his heavy overcoat is not really waterproofed and today the damp has seeped through to his light shirt. “It’s ok for those with furs or proper tweed, the rest of us just get damp and feel clammy.”   
Weather is always a good topic to start up a conversation with door staff, they suffer it more than most. “Yeah,” says Penn, “when I was in uniform it was the smell of soggy wool that my girl really hated.”  
“You a cop?”  
“Yup. Just checking your Miss Manilla gets home safe.”  
“She of interest?”  
“Just as a friend of the woman who was killed a few weeks back.  
We want to talk to her, is all.” Penn lights a cigarette and offers one to Eric who takes it and shuffles a few yards further away from the doorway before lighting it.  
“The Studio’s telling us to clam up about her, but she was ok for an arty broad. Worked long hours, was friendly with Miss Manilla and a couple of other fashion and film types.”   
Penn looks him in the eye as he asks, “can you give me a couple of names for her friends?” Eric looks away, checking Agnes can’t see him, before he speaks. “She stayed friends with the people from her training days at the academy, Lorelei and Ontari and for a while had a thing with an actor; Michael I think his name was.” Eric puts out his cigarette carefully, before placing the stub in his pocket. “I have to get back to the door”. He walks away from Penn to stand immediately in front of the foyer doors.

Penn walks back to his car and makes a record of his conversation with Eric in his notebook. Then he positions himself carefully so he can watch who goes in and out of the Hobart Arms foyer, it’s going to be a long three hours before Tybalt turns up to relieve him. 

Tuesday 4th February 8477 Sunset Boulevard 0345 hours

Quint, a bulky muscular man smartly dressed in tux and black tie, is sitting in his office when he takes the call at 0345 hours. He immediately calls in his henchmen Manny and Billings and they raise the alarm in the club room five minutes later. In those five minutes Quint has left the premises with the bulk of the night’s takings with him. With the alarm raised, Manny and Billings leave and the club starts to empty. Not fast enough though, as when Anya and Lincoln storm in at 0400 hours there are still over fifty punters and twelve staff for them to arrest; Cokey Saunders is one of those arrested. The operation, ‘clean the streets’, will be hailed by Commissioner Jaha, at that afternoon’s press conference, as an outstanding success, as over one hundred miscreants are ‘taken off the streets’ of Hollywood. Of those arrested Anya and Lincoln are interested in five, all of them snitches they’ve used in the past. Three have nothing to offer but Cokey and Lemon Drops McGraw have something to sell.

Tuesday 4th February Hollywood PD 0800 hours

Lexa and Anya are reading through reports from the ‘clean the streets’ arrests. Déjà vu thinks Lexa, the number of hours she’s spent, in Anya’s office and eventually her own, looking though badly written reports and records of interviews must be beyond counting. She sighs and returns to the task in hand. In addition to Cokey and Lemon Drops, currently in separate interview rooms undergoing the ‘good guy’ treatment from Lincoln, Lexa spots an interview with Lenny the Smoke that covers his whereabouts on the 6th January. Apparently he was on the back lot of Top Flight Studios for most of that afternoon, he may be worth talking to again. Penn’s notes from his brief discussion with Eric are also worth following up.

Lincoln knocks, enters and reports on his interviews with Cokey and Lemon Drops. Cokey is happy to put an out of towner Ludo Nero into the frame for Maria. Not that he knows anything concrete of course, it’s all hints, hearsay and innuendo but Cokey says that Ludo is a newcomer, close to Marco’s Italian mob, is suddenly very flush with money and talks big about how deadly it is to cross him. Ludo spends a lot of time at the tables playing roulette, he has a system for winning or so he says, a loser’s game in Cokey’s opinion if ever there was. Lemon Drops also brings Ludo into the story but doubts the link to Marco, he says that Ludo was brought in from Chicago for a particular hit but, he likes it so much here out west, that he’s decided to stay. Lemon Drops won’t link Ludo to any particular mobster, it’s just that he was hired in, paid well and stayed around. 

Anya’s immediately on the telephone to Chicago getting the lowdown on Ludo from Chicago PD. He’s well known in the ‘Windy” city as a man who has close connections to the Italians, will kill to order and has a preference to kill using an ordinary kitchen knife. They’ll wire his photograph and details later today.

Lexa and Anya sweep into the interview room where Cokey sits impatiently. Lexa takes the lead, “Ludo Nero Cokey, where’d you meet him and when?”  
“At the Cubist, a week or two after Christmas; they have a roulette table and he’s a fool for roulette.” Lexa seems unconvinced. “Martinez runs the Cubist, one of Marco’s boys wouldn’t be seen dead there or maybe he would, but only as a corpse!”  
“He’s not one of Marco’s boys. I never said he was one of Marco’s boys. I only said he was close to the Italians, maybe did a job or two for them, maybe for Marco. “  
“What kind of job would he do?”  
“Killing, he’s a killer.”  
“How do you know he’s a killer?”  
Cokey looks at Anya leaning against the wall on Lexa’s right. He swallows, scratches his collarbone, rolls his eyes a little. Lexa asks again. “How do you know he’s a killer?”   
“He said he could always get money to fund his roulette system, all that had to happen was someone became a nuisance to an important someone and Ludo’d be asked to take care of it, permanently.”  
“What about Luca Cokey, would your boss hire him for a job?” Cokey’s answer is immediate. “No way. I’d know if Luca bought in help.”   
Anya chips in with a few questions but it seems Cokey has nothing else to sell, so with his tipster’s fee in his pocket he’s released, along with the others from the day’s raids. 

Chicago PD come good; with Ludo’s mugshot, description and records wired through in quick time. Chicago PD really don’t like him very much!  
Anya and Lexa talk strategy on the case overall and for the meeting with Lucy Manilla due to take place at Miss Manilla’s office at 1100 hours.   
They debate; is Ludo a suspect? No, there’s nothing to really place him anywhere near Maria in terms of physical location or association. He’s just another line of enquiry that has a mob link and a liking for kitchen knives. They need to talk to him and that means finding him; other than being a fool for roulette and maybe the Italian mob connection, they have nothing to go on. Should an APB go out? probably yes; but with the leaks in the department everyone in organised crime will know he is of interest within a matter of hours. They decide to leave the APB for at least twenty-four hours and they’ll do the rounds of the main illegal gambling clubs with connections to the Italians that night. The Cubist is blown as a venue for some time, with the prohibition raid on Saturday closing it down; even if Cokey was telling the truth about the club being where he first came across Ludo. They also debate what to tell Clarke. Nothing to tell at the moment, is their conclusion. 

The drive to Lucy Manilla’s office takes them to Top Flight Studios’ main offices and lot. It’s a busy colourful place full of costumed extras, technicians, large pieces of scenery, equipment and huge stages lit by blinding spotlights. When they ask for Lucy Manilla the guard at the impressive front gates lets them through without even questioning their identity. A worrying slackness in their security, anyone can get in or out without accounting for themselves. 

At the offices they are met in the foyer by Lucy Manilla’s assistant, a young woman who introduces herself as Maya Vie. Maya apologises because Miss Manilla is running ten minutes late in getting to her office and offers them coffee while they wait. They politely refuse and offer sympathy over the length of Miss Manilla’s travels lately and how difficult it must be for her to immediately adjust to time zone changes and the stresses of travel by plane. As they are shown to chairs in the waiting area just outside Maya’s office, Anya slips outside for, she says, a cigarette. In reality it is to allow Lexa to chat to the young woman away from Anya’s formal police presence.

“Are Top Flight looking after everyone affected by Maria’s death?” asks Lexa gently. “Oh, not really, it’s just a message from the top to speak to no one about it unless you go through their lawyers. Mr Wallace of our legal department will sit in on your interview with Miss Manilla. It’s all about protecting the Studio’s reputation.”

Lexa smirks suggestively; “they probably have their hands full with that. Freddy Raspovic alone must need a whole department to look after his reputation.” Maya snorts out a laugh and nods agreement but says. “I really couldn’t say.” 

The outer door opens and Anya and a smartly dressed young man enter the waiting area. “Isn’t Lucy in yet?” The man, who doesn’t bother to introduce himself, uses a tone laced with arrogance and aggression. Maya looks up and calmly answers him. “I told your secretary twenty minutes ago, that Miss Manilla is running ten minutes late, Mr Wallace.” 

Anya thrusts her hand at Wallace and then gestures to Lexa; “Lieutenant Forester, Mr Wallace and Miss Woods who is helping Hollywood PD with our enquiries into the murder of Maria Ocardi.” 

Wallace winces as Anya, responding to his attempt at a heavy hand grip, gives his hand a bone crushing shake; observing this Lexa goes for a crunching grip as well. His eyes water in response. “Cage Wallace, Top Flight’s legal counsel.” Lexa notes Maya rolling her eyes, it seems Cage has maybe just given himself a promotion. 

Five minutes later a flustered Lucy Manilla arrives and invites them all to walk straight into her office. This despite Cage trying to persuade her to see him first in private. No, says Lucy, he was invited to contact her last night if he had anything vital to say before this interview, so she’s not delaying the Lieutenant any longer. Anya nods her appreciation and they all file into Lucy’s office; the nameplate on her door identifies her as Assistant to the Financial Director. This is clearly an important job judging by the size of her office. It’s immense and the pillar-desk in dark mahogany with a green leather writing surface looks as if it could double as a pool table. Cage doesn’t wait to be invited to sit; he just throws himself into the chair immediately opposite Lucy’s immense desk. Lucy, clearly annoyed at his rudeness, guides Anya and Lexa to a small conversational grouping of a low table, sofa and three armchairs off to right of her desk. She asks Maya to get them a tray of coffee and biscuits. After the women are seated Cage walks over and drops into the remaining armchair, opens his briefcase and takes out a pad and pen. He seems about to speak, when Lucy cuts him off and opens the conversation. 

“You’ll have seen the interview I gave to your colleagues in New York.”  
Anya replies, as per their strategy, she will lead at the start of the interview and Lexa observe Lucy. Later they will switch roles. “Yes, thank-you for cooperating so readily despite your busy schedule in New York. I’ve asked to meet you today to go beyond the very basic questions the New York PD asked; where were you at the time of the murder, do you know any enemies of the victim, that kind of thing.” Maya arrives with the coffee and serves everyone. Setting her cup on the table Lucy looks straight at Anya. “I see, in what direction do you want this interview to go?”  
“We know very little about Maria as a person. She had no immediate family; you are the only person who is referred to as a friend of hers. We’ve spoken to her work colleagues and they seem to know little about her outside of her work. Can you tell us more about who she was?”

Lucy looks pensive for a moment, then Cage clears his throat to attract her attention. “What do you want to say Cage?”   
“As a legal advisor I must inform you that you are not obliged to say anything to the police.”  
“I know that Cage, what I am trying to do here is help the police solve Maria’s murder.”  
“A worthy motivation” says Cage. Pompous git, thinks Lexa, just let the woman speak. She exercises rigid self-control and manages not to roll her eyes in frustration. “However, I must remind you of your duty to the Studio.” Oh, thinks Lexa, the Studio thinks it has something to hide. 

“Thank-you Cage for giving the Lieutenant and Miss Woods the impression that the Studio has something to hide.” Sarcasm drips from Lucy. “I think it best you leave now, before you say anything else detrimental to the Studio’s interests.” Cage attempts to dissuade her but Lucy is adamant and eventually he leaves under protest. 

Lucy puts her fingers to her temples before looking up, she is clearly tired after her long journey the day before. She sighs. “I need more coffee. More coffee for you ladies?” Anya and Lexa both agree and Lucy moves to the door of her office to ask Maya for another round of coffee. When she returns to her seat she looks at them both. “I apologise for him; he is such a dick and yet his father Dante is a lovely man; our current MD and main shareholder. Probably that’s the only reason Cage has a job at all. I know that I’ll bail out of this Studio if it ever looks as if he will be put in charge of it.” 

Lexa relaxes back into her, very comfortable, chair and finishes her first cup of coffee before speaking. “Is that likely to happen soon?”

“No thank God, Dante is in his sixties but fit and healthy, he has many good years left.” Lexa ponders, Top Flight could be vulnerable without a solid successor in view, she needs to get Luna and maybe Clarke’s team to look at Cage, they will undoubtedly be looking at Dante already. 

After the second round of coffee has arrived, Anya brings the conversation back to Maria. “You’ve known Maria for a few years haven’t you? From before she joined Top Flight.”

Lucy is very open and responsive to Anya’s questions. She has always been a follower of fashion and over the past eight years or so she has had the money to indulge that interest. House of Queen are known for the excellence of; their design, tailoring and furs. Lucy has been a client of the fashion house for at least six years and came to know Maria when the latter was a very talented student of their academy. Every final year student of the academy is given the opportunity to design and have made up a garment for a one of House of Queen’s clients. The client is not obliged to pay for the garment but if they actually want it they pay full price. Lucy was Maria’s client and the coat she designed; Lucy adored. She still has it and very occasionally, as it is now four years old and very 1920s in its look, wears it. 

“She was so very, very talented and had the ambition and work ethic to match. She knew she was outstanding and initially found it frustrating to be doing little jobs on insignificant films.”

As planned it’s Lexa who takes over the questioning at this point.   
“But she made it to the big time very quickly didn’t she? It must have been a huge leap to go from designing curtains in Claude Milan’s first film, to lead designer for Gustus Trikru’s Silent Sins?” 

For the first time Lucy looks uncomfortable. “Yes, it was. She managed to catch Gustus’ eye and landed the job. I hadn’t been any help to her. I’d tried my best to get her some advancement, but my role in the Studio tends to make me unpopular with the creative types, who run in the opposite direction when they see me.” She gives her shoulders an eloquent shrug. “I’m known for requiring, even artists for heaven’s sake, to budget and control costs.”   
“Do you know how she caught Gustus’ eye?”   
“No”  
“She never talked about it, maybe boasted a little about how she managed it?”  
“No”  
“Was she surprised to get the job?”  
“She was thrilled, absolutely thrilled. She’d started working on the designs, even before she found out she’d got the job. She kept saying that Gustus wouldn’t regret it.”  
“Yes, but was she surprised to get the position, seeing it was such a huge leap?”  
Lucy is looking quite tired now and Lexa knows the interview will end soon. “Not surprised, no. I don’t know how she managed it frankly. Gustus is known to be loyal to people he’s used for years in technical and creative roles.”  
As agreed with Anya, Lexa presses the point, but very gently.  
“Miss Manilla you’ve told us that, Maria was talented and frustrated – then suddenly, out of the blue, she lands the job of a lifetime. If she didn’t tell you how she managed to get it, who would she have confided in?”  
Lucy, looking haggard with exhaustion now, raises her eyes to Lexa’s. “She’s always stuck close to Lorelei, Lorelei Tsing. Lorelei was a sort of mentor figure for her at the academy. Then she hero worshipped Ontari Queen, she was always going on about how Ontari had been to Paris and had learnt from the great French designers and had a certain ‘Parisian flair’. Those are the only two I know of; she broke up with her boyfriend Michael about twelve months ago and has really been too busy recently to become involved with anyone else.”

The interview winds down quickly after that. Lucy is clearly exhausted. Both Lexa and Anya thank Lucy for her time before they leave. They plan to meet up later to hit the roulette tables.


	10. Los Saguaro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gambling, dancing, shooting. Clexa!

Chapter 10 

Tuesday 4th February Sunset Boulevard 2330 hours

Lexa picks up Anya from Sunset Boulevard and they drive out of the city to the north and towards canyon country. So far the evening has been a bust. Separately they’ve visited the five illegal gambling clubs that they’d identified as the likeliest venues for Ludo to play roulette. Each club had been busy, with plenty of punters losing their money at all sorts of games, but none had hosted Ludo tonight nor, if the staff were to be believed, had they ever. There are only a couple of real possibilities left, both high rolling establishments outside the city and first on their list is Los Saguaro, so they’ll finish the night there and go to their final possibility tomorrow. Lexa’s Citroen is still labouring a little on the steeper hills, Raven hasn’t got the new timing arm fitted yet, but they make it up into the exclusive residential areas on the outskirts of Hollywood without any difficulty. 

Around here money, even in the depression, is plentiful and houses are large and stately. As they approach a gated community of the very rich, two estate security officers stop them at a cross-gate barrier. Anya slumps down into her seat, Lexa is the face of this operation. A torch is shone into the car, “Good evening sir, er, madam. Can I help you.” Lexa recognises a former colleague from Hollywood PD. Not the cleanest of cops, but not the dirtiest either. Hendon’s his name and they’d patrolled together a few years back. “Evening Hendon, I’m just looking for Los Saguaro. You know poker is my game.” 

“Why Lieutenant, sorry Miss Woods, it’s good to see you. Los Saguaro is just a mile down here on the right. There’s a sign for it; looks like a big cactus. The gate will be open, just drive into the big turning area and leave your name and car keys with the carhop. Any problems at the gate you tell them that Andy sent you through. By the way there’s a pat down for weapons before you’re allowed in.” Lexa thanks him and drives on. She and Anya curse but remove their shoulder holsters as she drives steadily through the estate. Hendon’s last comment was a useful one. They stash their guns in a hidden compartment under the dash. When she sees the cactus sign Lexa turns off the road and pulls the car to a halt in the turning area immediately outside the entrance to a huge and sprawling modernist building; all concrete and curves. The carhop takes her car keys and she and Anya make their way through glass doors into a large foyer that glitters with chrome and crystal. Their feet sink into a carpet that would be dangerous to small dogs, it’s like wading through white mud. Lexa’s more than usually glad she isn’t wearing heels and a dress, she could easily turn an ankle in this. They check their hats and overcoats and suffer the pat down, before they make their way to the bar. They each order a Bushmills whiskey and turn to take a look at one of the highest rolling gambling venues in the state. 

It’s luxury incarnate. Not just thick carpets and sparkling crystal but everything shrieks that no expense has been spared. Heavy white silk drapes cover the walls, ceiling and windows. Genuine, Lexa thinks, Lalique sculptures are on almost all the available flat surfaces. The white piano is a Steinway, the furniture is heavy, stylish and probably imported from Europe. Even the drinks are the best, their whiskey is genuine Irish and many of the clientele are drinking real French champagne. Then there’s that clientele; Lexa can see a veritable galaxy of movie stars; Mae, Charlie, Marlene, Bette, Errol, Louise and Pola are all there to see and be seen. There are politicians too, including the mayor; not Costia’s father thank god, but another second-generation Italian just like him. No wonder the club survives, not even Indra would have the balls to raid this place. 

Anya and Lexa have dressed to fit in with the smart evening gambling set, both are in black tie. Anya’s matched her black dress pants and cummerbund with a white single-breasted dinner jacket, while Lexa chose a sombre black tuxedo with satin faced lapels and a double-breasted black vest. 

On the gambling floor they can see a number of games of chance in progress; blackjack, poker, craps, baccarat and of course roulette. All the games are attracting punters, but a quick look around reveals that Ludo is not at the tables. Music starts up from a trio playing on a stage next to the tiny dance floor. A few couples are dancing in a pretty desultory fashion, others are sitting at the tables that surround the dance floor, chatting, drinking or listening to the singer. She’s worth listening to, a small dark-haired woman wearing, what Lexa thinks is, a rip-off of a Chanel design evening gown in sea green silk. As she scans the punters around the dance floor Lexa’s eyes widen when she sees Clarke Griffin sitting at one of the tables. Her breath halts as she fully takes in Clarke; who is wearing, an original, Vionnet bias cut silk evening goddess gown of china blue. “Breathe Lexa!” It’s Anya following her gaze. “Though I can’t fault your taste, she looks fabulous in that blue. And Lexa; her eyes are a little bit higher.” At that moment a young man arrives at Clarke’s table and asks her to dance. Lexa grinds her teeth for a second before Clarke politely refuses, apparently her dance partner is at the bar and will be over directly. The man takes the refusal in good part and leaves to join his friends at another table. Clarke stands and Lexa stops breathing again, as she walks, or sways, towards them. Clarke stops immediately in front of Lexa. “Do me a favour, I need a dance partner now!” Lexa doesn’t hesitate, she puts down her whiskey, takes Clarke’s arm, guides her to the floor and they swing into a foxtrot. 

“Thank-you, that got me out of a jam. He’s been asking me to dance all night and once was enough; he’s got clammy hands and bad breath.” Lexa is suddenly conscious of her own hands, one is lightly touching Clarke’s silk clad back, just below the plunging back-line of her dress. She feels a little warm and thinking of Clarke’s dress and it’s plunging neck and backlines is makes her even warmer. Are her hands clammy? Her breath must be whiskey laced at best; she tries not to breathe too hard on Clarke. They glide and turn with the music. “My pleasure” says Lexa, carefully directing her breath over Clarke’s right shoulder, “what brings you here this evening?” “My friend Octavia is the singer tonight. It’s her first night at Los Saguaro and I’ve come along for moral support. Her day job is financial analyst, she and her brother Bellamy have started to look into the financial issues, we discussed yesterday. They’re working with your researcher Luna. What brings you here?” Lexa leans closer to speak softly into Clarke’s ear as they glide through a turn. “Off the record. Our snitches gave us a name that we need to check out. It’s not that we’ve got a suspect, nothing so concrete as that, it’s just following up a lead.” The song ends and the music switches to a rumba rhythm. Lexa looks at Clarke and quirks an eyebrow. “Do you?” It’s Clarke’s turn to feel a little breathless, Lexa Woods in a tuxedo makes her pulse quicken, dancing the foxtrot with her was divine, but a rumba: she feels herself gulp as she nods yes. Lexa removes her tuxedo jacket and hands it to Anya, then she takes Clarke into the latin dance hold and they start to dance; simple box steps at first but soon they each realise that the other has some experience in dancing the rumba and so they become bolder. At one point, Clarke almost fails to make her spot turn, but Lexa is there to support and guide her into the shoulder to shoulder; after that it just becomes fun and the dancefloor clears of other dancers as Clarke and Lexa enjoy themselves and dance. At the end of the dance Lexa slides to her knees as Clarke, imperious and up on her toes, holds her right hand to Lexa’s cheek, Lexa leans into the warm palm her lips just touching Clarke’s skin. The music stops, there is appreciative applause from the bystanders and Lexa rises to bow and kiss Clarke’s hand. Back at the table Anya, Octavia and now Lincoln are waiting for them. 

“Phew, that was awesome you two.” Octavia stands, ready to go back to the stage and sing her next number. “I never knew you could dance like that Clarke. You wait ‘til I tell Raven!” She sashays to her spot by the piano, brings the microphone close to her lips and the trio start their second set with Ruth Etting’s Ten Cents a Dance. Octavia, as she sings, becomes the sad dance hall professional of the song and all who hear her are spellbound. The applause as she finishes is enthusiastic and she grins widely towards their table. Her next song is more upbeat and conversation starts to break out around the dancefloor. Lexa turns to Anya. “Any sign of him?” “No, but one of the bar staff told me that he doesn’t usually come in until after one o’clock, we’ve a little time to wait; maybe you’ll have your hips back in alignment by the time he turns up.” Lexa blushes and looks across to Clarke, who she notices is without a drink. “Can I get anyone a drink?” She notes who wants what, puts her jacket back on and heads to the bar. 

Clarke turns to Anya and Lincoln. “Where did Lexa learn to dance like that?” It’s Lincoln who replies. “She went to a posh all-girls school in England for most of her education, there the tall girls tended to get stuck with dancing the man’s part. That was something she never minded, though she dances the woman’s part just as well. What about you Clarke, where did you learn to dance?”  
“Here in LA. I was very badly coordinated as a child and my mom insisted that dance lessons would help me be less clumsy. It started off a bit of a chore but I came to love it. The most annoying thing is that my mom was right, I became much less clumsy.” They all laugh, as Lexa returns to the table with a waiter who is carrying their drinks. “What did I miss?”  
Lincoln smirks, “I was just telling Clarke your all-girls dance class stories.” They all laugh again and sip their drinks.

Lexa smiles at Clarke, “do you fancy a spin at the tables Clarke?” “Hmmm, yes.” There’s a brief exchange between Anya and Lexa. It’s agreed that Lexa and Clarke will take the roulette table at the far end of the hall and Anya the table nearest the dance floor. It’s after 0100 and Ludo may come out to play.

Clarke knows that Lexa and Anya are here for work, but she can’t help enjoying herself as she and Lexa stand side by side as they play the table. They are mournful when they lose, ridiculously happy whenever they win and throughout she can; lean into Lexa, whisper her bets into Lexa’s ear, put her hands on Lexa’s shoulders as Lexa pushes their coloured chips onto the table. As for Lexa she is having difficulty concentrating; she feels a pulse deep in her abdomen every time Clarke touches her, she’s lost track entirely of her bets and she doesn’t care, because Clarke just leaned forward to place a bet and Lexa got a serious eyeful of delightful cleavage plus Clarke’s light flowery perfume. At one point they win $350 for a $10 dollar bet and Clarke throws herself into Lexa’s arms in her excitement; Lexa catches her and doesn’t ever want to let her go again. 

They’ve been playing for about an hour, when Lexa sees Ludo Nero approach Anya’s table. His description and photograph from Chicago are pretty accurate, so he’s looks much as expected. Short at 5’6”, with a wiry build. His face is long, his head hair thinning and combed back. His moustache is black and toothbrush style. Lexa sees that Clarke is following her gaze and she feels her stiffen. Then Clarke drapes herself around Lexa and murmurs “Darling I need a drink, take me to the bar.” Lexa takes the hint and cashing in their chips, leaves the table with Clarke and they move to a quieter part of the casino. Clarke moves her lips to Lexa’s ear. “You’re after Ludo Nero?” Lexa whispers back, “you know him?” Still draping herself, most distractingly, around Lexa Clarke whispers again. “I’ve been in Chicago for the last seven years Lexa and I was on the crime beat for a while. He’s a Chicago mob hitman, a knife specialist and you’re investigating a murder by stabbing. It adds up.” 

With Clarke on her arm and fresh drinks in their hands, Lexa and Clarke saunter towards Anya’s roulette game. Ludo has managed to get himself a seat at the table and he nods briefly to the croupier, who clearly knows him well. He’s drinking a sidecar cocktail and orders another as he puts his piles of coloured chips and a notebook on the table in front of him. He consults his notebook, then as the croupier says “Faites vos jeux” he places three six-line bets. The croupier spins the wheel and Ludo loses; his face is expressionless as he notes the result in his book and waits as the winners are paid out. Then at the next “Faites vos jeux” he places the same three bets again. This time he wins and after noting the result in his book invests the entirety of his winnings and his original stake on the same three six-line bets. The next spin sees him win and reinvest his winnings again. At this point Lexa can see that each of Ludo’s bets has grown from his initial $100 to $1200. Next spin Ludo wins again and reinvests. Lexa and Anya exchange looks and Anya cashes in her chips and leaves the table to join Lexa, Clarke and now Lincoln as they walk towards the tables next to the dancefloor. Now they just need to wait until Ludo leaves, then they can pull him in. Much as Anya would like to take him in for questioning now, the politics of it all mean that making any kind of scene in this club is not going to happen. 

Lexa asks Clarke to dance and they sway to a very dignified waltz, then all bets are off as a hot samba rhythm has Lexa loosening her bow tie and taking her jacket off again, and as Octavia said to Lincoln. “That, was sex on the dancefloor.” At the end of the dance Lexa and Clarke, much to their friends’ amusement, disappear to get some ‘air’.

Outside, the club’s gardens are lit by a few burning torches and Clarke and Lexa are not the only couple ‘taking the air’. Lexa picked up her jacket on the way outside and now she drapes it around Clarke’s shoulders, the night air in February is cool. As she feels the cloth enfold her Clarke takes in Lexa’s scent; clean pine, light citrus and a hint of lavender. She leans into Lexa’s embrace and raises her head to find Lexa’s lips. Lexa lowers her lips to Clarke’s and there is a hint of desperation in the heat of that first long searching kiss and how their bodies curve into each other and connect. They both draw back for just a moment before their eyes meet and hands seek each other’s skin. In that dress it’s easy for Lexa to find and touch Clarke’s softness; hands can slide along her back; lips taste her collar bone and the swell of her breasts. For Clarke it’s a little more frustrating, Lexa has undone her tie and top stud but only her face, hands and throat are readily available to Clarke’s hands and lips. They kiss again, deeply, Clarke moves a hand to Lexa’s ass and squeezes. 

There’s an embarrassed cough. It’s Lincoln, looking as if he would like to be anywhere but here. “Anya says Ludo is cashing in his chips. He’s had a good night, walking away with at least $10,000 dollars profit.”

Lexa and Clarke look to the heavens, move apart and return with Lincoln to the main gaming floor. As they walk in Clarke returns Lexa’s tuxedo jacket with a smile. “Thank-you.” “My pleasure. Can I call on you later today?” “Please do, I want news, as well as you.” Clarke’s last remark is accompanied by a dazzling smile and prompts a shy smile from Lexa. Lincoln can hear Anya’s eyeroll. Clarke and Lincoln return to the table by the dancefloor as Octavia starts her last set of the evening. 

Walking towards the cloakroom Anya and Lexa see Ludo, in his overcoat and hat, standing at the bar finishing off yet another sidecar as he stashes a thick wad of cash into his inside coat pocket. Collecting their coats and hats, Lexa turns aside to tip the carhop, Ludo walks past them and out into the night. A couple of seconds later the sharp cracks of gunshots are heard coming from outside the club and the glass doors of the foyer shatter. Someone screams and almost as one the clients of the club move away from the entrance and crouch behind any solid looking furniture. 

Lexa and Anya throw themselves to the floor, pulling the carhop down with them. The noise is deafening; with more gunshots, the roaring of a car's engine and squealing tyres. Anya shouts to anyone who will listen, “turn these lights out”. The foyer goes dark and car headlights swing crazily in the dark. In the swinging lights Lexa catches sight of Ludo, buckled over on his knees, firing a small pistol towards a car that swings around the turning area before screeching out of the gate. As the car swerves away into the night a final burst of automatic fire slams more bullets into Ludo and ricochets around the lobby. Pain explodes in Lexa’s head as the cars roar away into the night.

Silence falls. In the darkness Lexa tries to stand but her legs don’t seem to work. Anya is there asking if she is ok. The cold marble of the floor rises to greet her and blackness fills her vision. 

Clarke hearing the gunshots and smashing glass turns towards the noise; she sees Lexa and Anya drop to the floor as glass and bullets spray into the club. Then the foyer lights go out. Lincoln pulls her and Octavia down onto the floor behind some bulky furniture and covers them both with his body as bullets continue to fly. When eventually silence falls, Clarke disentangles herself and is up on her feet running towards the darkened foyer where Lexa lies in a growing pool of blood and Anya is yelling for someone to call an ambulance.


	11. Infirmary blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's got a headache but Clarke's kisses help.

Chapter 11 

Wednesday 5th February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 0800 hours

Clarke sits at her desk and peruses galley proofs for the day’s second edition. She’s pleased with the banner headline, an eye-catching; “Chicago hit man dies at local Casino Club shootout”. The words are accurate, but then she’s added in that extra bit of sensationalism in the kicker. “Ludo Nero died in a hail of bullets, as he left Los Saguaro with over $10,000 in winnings”. This scoop, well ahead of all the other papers is all down to Clarke and her presence at Los Saguaro. She’s careful to leave out Lexa and Anya’s presence at the club, that is for them to manage. However, what may bring the wrath of Hollywood PD down on her head, is that Clarke’s report on Ludo’s killing does include her views as to why Ludo was in LA in the first place and that is the murder of Maria Ocardi. She’s just doing her job and doing it well. Selling newspapers, keeping her people in jobs, telling the truth and formulating opinions, but maybe Anya and Lexa will see it differently. 

She signs off on the proofs and slumps back into her chair exhausted. Monroe unasked brings her coffee and Clarke looks up to thank her. “Any news about Miss Woods from the hospital?” Monroe shakes her head “They’re not giving out anything.” Clarke had seen Lexa taken away from the club in an ambulance and although Anya had tried to be reassuring, it was difficult not to be concerned when her and Clarke’s hands were covered in Lexa’s blood and Lexa was unconscious. Clarke assisted by Monroe, has been calling the hospital every hour trying to get news of her condition. 

The telephone in Monroe’s office rings and she hurries out to take the call. Clarke hugs herself, she is beyond tired. Last night was draining in so many ways. She picks up her own telephone and asks the switchboard to put a call through to her mom at the hospital. She doesn’t like using Abby’s profession in this way but she needs to know how Lexa is. To Clarke’s surprise Abby picks up right away and responds immediately to Clarke identifying herself with, “hi honey, are you ok?” Abby always sounds a little worried with unexpected telephone calls. “I’m fine mom, I just want you to be prepared for an alarming headline from the paper.” Abby’s gasp is enough for Clarke to push ahead. “I’m ok, but I was at the scene of a shooting last night, when people died and others were hurt.” “My god Clarke, what were you doing there?” “Until it all went to hell, I was having a good time mom; listening to Octavia sing, dancing and playing roulette. Just having fun.” Clarke’s voice cracks and a sob escapes her tightened lips. Abby whispers into the phone “Oh honey, but you’re ok?” “Yeah, I’m good but someone I was with was hurt.” “Who was hurt?” “Lexa Woods mom, she was shot and I can’t find out how she is.” Clarke is full on crying now, the exhaustion and worry about Lexa has finally caught up with her. “Clarke was she brought to St Vincent’s?” “Yeah, I think so.” “I’m going to find out and ring you back honey, just hang on.”  
Abby hangs up, Clarke puts the telephone down and tries to compose herself as she waits for Abby’s call. She’s shivering, it’s probably delayed shock. She wraps her long, knitted cardigan around her shoulders; thank god for the clothes she keeps in her office. It was something she learnt in Chicago, always have a few changes of clothes on hand as you never know when weather, news or happenstance meant you need to look; business like, glamorous, inconspicuous or just needed to be warm. Monroe knocks and walks in carrying a tray; it’s breakfast sandwiches, orange juice and coffee. Clarke almost says no, but Monroe’s warning look and her own good sense make her start to eat and then she realises she is famished. She eats her way through the food, almost moaning her appreciation.

Her telephone rings, it’s Abby. “Clarke I’ve spoken to Jackson who is treating Lexa Woods. It looks as if she’s going to be ok, but we need her to be a bit careful for a few days and boy will she have a headache. I’m just going to talk you through it, Okay?”  
“Okay.” Clarke puts down her orange juice and listens carefully.  
“She has a head wound, a graze, probably from a ricocheting bullet. Her skull was not penetrated and there’s no fracture; but they are worried about concussion and a possible intracranial bleed, so they are keeping her under observation for 24 hours. She lost a lot of blood, head and scalp wounds bleed so badly, but she’ll recover from that.”

“Thanks mom, is she conscious?”

“She’s been conscious and we are waking her up every hour because of the risk of concussion.”

“Can I see her?”

“Hmm, probably not a good idea yet. She needs to rest Clarke. She can’t be giving interviews to the press.”

“No, no; I’m not after an interview I just want to see her. We’re … friends.” Who dance passionately and kiss….

“If you come to see me for lunch here, we could maybe look in on her room on our way to my office?”

“Great idea, I’ll see you in a few hours. Love you mom!”

“Love you honey!” They end the call.

Clarke decides she needs to go home to rest and change. Monty, her deputy editor, can prepare the final edition, she’ll just proof it before it goes to print. Calling in Monroe, Clarke diarises a meeting with Jasper tomorrow to see what, if anything, new he has on the crime beat, including on Maria and Ludo. She’s meeting Harper at the Echo’s offices at 6.30 to get ready to go to the House of Queen for their Fall Collection show. She needs to choose her outfit carefully and prepare for the interview with Ontari, if it happens. Collecting her bag and last night’s clothes, Clarke leaves her office and makes her way down to the street. 

She walks out to a fresh and lovely morning; a pleasant change after the last couple of days’ cool, wet weather. The streets are dry and the haze that hangs over the foothills doesn’t threaten rain. Clarke stands, a little shakily, on the street and takes in her home town. Its’ streets are bustling, even at this early hour, with people and vehicles. Colourful delivery vans, bicycles and cars sweep along, somehow managing to avoid collisions with each other and pedestrians. The sunny day has lightened everyone’s mood it seems and laughter, whistles, songs and calls can be heard as she crosses the busy street to her car. Her father’s old Vauxhall continues, with Raven’s dedicated care, to power its’ way around LA and she drops into the driving seat and starts it up for the drive home. Just sitting in the car makes her smile. Jake bought it in 1928 and loved it beyond all reason. It wasn’t just for the griffin emblem on the bonnet, oh no…. he frequently expounded at length on its’ many virtues including; a top speed of 100 mph, beautiful coach-built bodywork and an engine with 112 bhp, until Abby despaired and Clarke, home for a few days break after her divorce from Finn, covered her ears. Raven shared Jake’s love of cars but didn’t adore the Vauxhall as he did; insisting that she needed to improve its’ brakes if he was going to drive it at 100 mph. Abby on hearing this, took Raven’s advice very seriously and gave Jake hell until he allowed Raven to work on strengthening the brakes. Clarke, compared to Jake, is a slow and careful driver and she eases the big car into the flow of traffic without difficulty. She’s almost sorry she was too tired to lower the canopy, as she drives off in the sunshine.

The drive to her cottage takes a while and gives her time to ponder on last night’s events. For the Echo’s headline article Clarke’s remembered, processed and reviewed, time and time again, what she saw and experienced of Ludo’s death. What she’s not had time to process is Lexa Woods. Dancing with Lexa, kissing Lexa, wanting Lexa, seeing Lexa injured. It’s a lot to process, never mind in association with two murders. 

It’s been a long time since she’s wanted anyone, never mind wanted a woman, the way she wants Lexa Woods. Nylah Maltravers, a photographer she met in Chicago years ago, was the first to make her realise that she found women, as well as men, sexually attractive. Their affair was brief and they parted as friends a few months later; when Nylah found the love of her live Martina, in a Russian club that Clarke was writing an article about. Clarke was there when they met and she saw Nylah’s knees buckle the first time Martina turned towards her and smiled. Clarke had just met Finn and her affair with Nylah was pretty much over; so, she just experienced joy as the two women met and so obviously fell for each other. She still hears from them occasionally, most recently when Nylah was sent to France by the New York Times, to photograph some military installations and sent Clarke a postcard picturing the Folies Bergère, Paris. Nylah and Martina had a wonderful time in France and were seriously considering making their permanent home in Europe, probably in England. 

When she arrives home, Clarke sets her alarm clock for 1200 and goes straight to bed.

Wednesday 5th February St Vincent’s Infirmary LA 1200 hours

Lexa’s head hurts, so very, very much. A band of pain runs from her forehead, round both her temples and to the back of her skull. The bandage and sticking plaster attached to her left temple isn’t helping, she can feel the stitches in her scalp pulling. She wants to cry and whimper; she does neither. There is nothing she can do to reduce the gripping, screaming ache and the doctors are afraid to give her painkillers in case she has concussion or a slow brain bleed. She leans back onto lumpy pillows, closes her eyes and eventually drifts into a merciful sleep. 

All too soon she wakes to; “Miss Woods, Miss Woods. Sorry to disturb you but we need to do the hourly checks.” It’s nurse Gaia waking her up for the; ‘how many fingers am I holding up’, ‘look into this excruciatingly bright light’ and ‘focus on my finger please’; tests. Lexa does as Gaia asks and is gifted with some watery soup and a piece of bread as a reward. Gaia notes the test results on Lexa’s chart and leaves. Lexa is staring at the food, utterly disinterested in eating any of it, when the door to her room opens. She looks up to find Anya edging into the room, her finger to her lips asking for Lexa’s silence. Anya closes the door quietly and turns to Lexa. “I shouldn’t be here.” Anya’s whisper is worthy of the stage and Lexa winces at the loudness. “Sorry” a gentler tone. Anya sits on the chair beside the bed. “How’s your head?” “It hurts. When can I get out of here?”. Anya shrugs. ” They’re waiting, to see if your head falls off.” “Be serious, when can I leave?” “Honestly, I don’t know, they won’t tell me anything.” Lexa sighs impatiently as she pulls herself up into a sitting position. “OK what about Ludo and the case, what’s going on?”

Anya leans back into the chair, steals grapes from the bunch she’s brought Lexa and starts to bring Lexa up to speed. It’s a gloomy update. Ludo’s wasn’t the only killing that night. “First to die were the two estate security officers, your friend Hendon and his colleague; they were both shot in the head with silenced pistols, death was instantaneous.” 

That’s grim news, Hendon wasn’t all bad and he had a wife and kids. “Who was the other security guy with Hendon?” Anya grimaces, “another off-duty cop, name of Larry Johnson from south LA.” Anya pauses, both she and Lexa know police salaries are low and many officers moon-light to make up their pay. Jobs in private security, fire-fighting and transport are popular and could be above board. Others got their extra money through bribes, running protection rackets or leaking information to mob bosses with money. They both know that Hollywood, like the other divisions in the LA force, leaks information like a sieve. LA is a dirty place and the corruption runs all the way to the top. 

Lexa looks up, “who else died?” 

“Well. Second in line on this killing spree was the security detail on the gated entry to the club, again silenced pistols and head shots, the three of them died instantaneously. All were goons for Luca Santoro. You could almost thank whoever killed them, except this must start a gang war. Luca will be gunning for blood.”

“Fuck”, the expletive explodes from Lexa’s lips. “This will just be the start, Luca favours drive-by shootings himself. It won’t be safe on the streets.” She starts to shake her head, then decides against it. 

Anya steals more grapes. “Tell me about it. I’m just waiting for the reports to start coming in. Anyway, about last night. The car involved in the hit timed its arrival suspiciously well, they drew up to the front of the club only a few seconds before Ludo walked out through those fancy glass doors. They see him and open fire with pistols and Tommy guns. He returns fire with a pistol, how he got that through the pat down nobody seems to know. I’ve taken in all of the staff of Los Saguaro for questioning. That may slow Luca’s revenge plans for a while, as it includes a fair number of his toughest boys. Penn, Tybalt, Ryder and I will continue questioning them later, but I’ve nothing to hold them on at the moment. I just slipped out to see how you were doing and bring you this piece of garbage courtesy the Echo!” Anya hands Lexa the Echo’s second edition complete with lurid headline and kicker.

“How the fuck did she know Ludo was a Chicago hit man Lexa? and she’s linked him in her ‘opinion piece’ to Maria Ocardi!” Lexa takes her time to read through the front-page article and gives Anya a small grim smirk. “She put that together as soon as she saw him in the club. Clarke was in Chicago for years Anya as a reporter, including time on the crime beat. She knew exactly who he was and put together the ‘Chicago hitman who is a knife specialist’ with the Maria Ocardi killing straight away.” “Fuck it!” Anya is not happy, but Lexa can see a good side to it. 

“Look, this helps take the heat off the Freddie Raspovic angle and that stupid tip off. We can take more time to explore the mob and the business sides of things. No-one can say you should be looking at the sexual peccadillos of a movie star when you are facing a likely gang war.”

Anya slumps in the chair and runs her fingers through her messy blondish hair. “Fair point, I don’t want to tiptoe around a load of movie types asking who they screw and how.”

“Leave the movie and fashion stuff to me and Clarke, we’ll look into the money side and the blackmail and see if we can link it to your work on the mobs, Okay?” Anya nods a little grudgingly. Lexa starts to try and get out of the bed. “Now I need to get out of here!” At this moment the door opens and nurse Gaia walks in. She immediately shoos Anya out and her response to Lexa wanting to leave is to call for Doctor Jackson to explain why this is not possible. Doctor Jackson is adamant Lexa must stay until tomorrow as concussion or an intracranial bleed is a real possibility.

“The bullet didn’t just tear your scalp Miss Woods; it also gave your skull a glancing blow. It hit you on the head at some speed! We don’t know if that blow damaged your brain. A slow bleed takes some time to become symptomatic, so at the moment we don’t know if your brain is bleeding or not. If there is a bleed we need to have you here so we can operate immediately.” 

“How long do I have to be here?”

“If nothing shows up twenty-four hours.” 

“Starting from when?”

“Your arrival here at 0300.”

Lexa can see the sense of it and gets back into the bed. “Thanks doc, I’ll be here until 0300 tomorrow.” Jackson leaves with nurse Gaia, who takes the now cold food with her. Lexa lies back on the lumpy pillow and drifts to sleep. 

She is awakened some-time later by a whispered conversation by her bed. “It’s ok nurse I will put Miss Woods through the tests.” Opening her eyes Lexa sees a mature, rather good-looking woman in a doctor’s white coat, talking to nurse Gaia. Gaia leaves and the woman doctor follows her to the door to see her out. She waits by the door for a few seconds then beckons to someone in the corridor. Clarke slips in through the door, carrying a large paper bag. Lexa can’t help but smile.  
“Hey.” “Hey to you too.”  
“I’m sorry but I must do these tests.” It’s the doctor.  
Clarke puts the paper bag on the chair. “This is my mom; she has to do the tests Lexa. Then I can give you some decent food from Bonato’s, we know the food here is awful.”  
Lexa keeps smiling at Clarke, carefully observed by Abby. “Okay, anything for Antonio and Maria’s food.” Abby takes Lexa through the tests and then turns to Clarke. “Clarke honey you and Lexa have lunch here, then you can drop by my office afterwards.” Abby slips away before Clarke can raise her token protest.

Clarke starts putting plates and cutlery on the table. “I’ve brought bread, olives, risotto and lasagne; you look like you need to eat it all. You’re so pale! Antonio wanted to give me wine for you “to build the girl up!” but I persuaded him that alcohol and coffee were off the menu for a day or so.” 

Lexa can’t stop smiling, her headache has miraculously retreated to a dull ache for the moment. She reaches her hand out to Clarke, touching her gently on the back of her wrist; she just wants to keep touching her. Clarke turns to her, she was quite taken aback when she first saw Lexa a couple of minutes ago, so pale, drawn and clearly in pain. She looks down to where Lexa’s long fingers gently stroke the back of her wrist and moves closer. “May I kiss you?” Lexa raises her head, carefully, before replying “please do.” It’s a kiss of great tenderness, noses bumping gently as they explore each other’s lips. Clarke hitches a hip onto the bed and Lexa’s arms pull her closer as their kiss deepens.  
“I hate to stop but you need to eat this while it is still warm.” “Hmmm” Lexa chases the kiss but Clarke moves away and starts to dish out food. “Start with the lasagne, it’s made with beef and you need red meat after losing so much blood.” “Only if you start to eat the risotto, you need to eat too.” For a good few minutes the only sounds are of eating, as they are both hungry. But eating doesn’t stop them looking at each other, smiling, occasionally reaching out to touch or to offer each other titbits of the tasty food. When they have eaten all the food, Clarke gathers up the empty plates and all the utensils and puts them back in the bag. She returns to the bed and Lexa reaches around her waist to pull her closer. “Clarke. Thank-you, that was just what I needed.” Lexa raises her head and Clarke’s lips are waiting for her kiss. 

“I’d bring you dinner later but I’m going to the House of Queen autumn collection show tonight. I’m trying for an interview with Ontari Queen about Maria’s time as a student at their academy.” Lexa huffs in discontent but knows she has no right to Clarke’s time, especially Clarke’s work time. She nibbles gently on Clarke’s ear and is rewarded with a giggle and another kiss. After a moment they both pull back, Lexa’s exhaustion is starting to show in her returning pallor and a slight tremor in her fingers and Clarke needs to go to meet with her mom, she suspects she may face some questions about Lexa. 

Lexa leans back into her pillow. “Your front page on Ludo was a good article. Thanks for not mentioning me or Anya’s being at the club.” 

“I wasn’t sure what Anya would think about the opinion piece.”

“She was mad at first, but came to realise that the angle you took actually takes the pressure off her on the Freddie Raspovic blackmail tipoff. That’s useful, as she and Indra have enough on their hands facing a probable gangland war. There’s no way Luca Santoro is going to take an attack on Los Saguaro lying down. It’s just a matter of time before he hits back at whoever he thinks is responsible. I suggested that she leaves Freddie, fashion and the movie business angles to me and you; if you want in on it.”

Clarke hesitates for a second before replying. “I’m assuming the deal we reached before is still on?” Lexa nods. “Then yes that makes sense, Ludo’s death may be entirely unconnected to Maria’s, but you don’t think so do you?”

Before Lexa can reply the door to her room opens and nurse Gaia walks in with a tray. “I’m sorry miss, no visitors until this evening. Miss Woods I’ve brought you some lunch, a ham sandwich with tinned peaches for dessert.” Clarke almost laughs at the despair apparent on Lexa’s face as she takes in the curling sandwich and dish of limp fruit.

“I’ll talk to Antonio and Maria when I get back to the office Lexa I’m sure something can be arranged.” Clarke picks up the bag of plates and cutlery. 

“Can I see you after your fashion show?”

“If they let me in.” Gaia shoos Clarke out of the room and starts to go through the hourly tests. “Miss Woods, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Clarke makes her way through the hospital to her mom’s office. Abby, like Clarke, had chosen the risotto prima vera for her lunch. She looks up as Clarke knocks on her door and slips in. “How’s Miss Woods doing Clarke?” “Much better after some decent food. I’ll get Antonio to send something round for her tonight, again something meaty, she looks so pale.” Abby nods in agreement. “A good idea, the food here is terrible, what is it about these nuns that they can’t seem to recognise that good nutrition helps not just medically but lifts the spirits as well?” This is a long-term gripe of Abby’s and she can mutter and complain about it for some time. Clarke’s pleased to see that Abby has taken her own advice and eaten well today. Jake’s illness has drained her and she’d pretty much stopped functioning at all in the week following his death, she’s just recovering and like Clarke it’s her work that’s keeping her going. They chat for a while, not talking directly about Jake but not avoiding him either. “How’d you know Lexa Woods?” Oh my, here it is, thinks Clarke; the start of the inquisition. “Work, she’s a PI helping the police with the Maria Ocardi murder. She went to Los Saguaro last night as part of that investigation, I was there to support Octavia on her first night singing at the club. We had a great time until someone decided to shoot up the place!”

Abby packs away her empty plate and cutlery. “I followed her tennis career for a while, she’s a superb player and all-round athlete. It was awful when she had to pull out of Wimbledon with a hamstring injury. She runs some coaching sessions for the kids at our tennis club in the spring and gives out the club prizes at the end of the season.” Clarke knows her mom loves playing tennis and has won a few trophies herself. “Did she ever present a cup to you?” “Yes, she was completely charming. Jake and I had her and Costia over for dinner before their relationship went all too public.” “Ah, that’s why the ‘news’ of her dismissal from Hollywood PD was buried on page 5.” “Yes, Jake was furious with Jaha, so was I. Jaha was between a rock and a hard place we all know that, but it was still a disgrace. I like her Clarke, I just worry….” Abby trails off and looks down at her desk. Clarke can see she’s missing the reassurance and safety Jake’s presence would have brought to her concerns. “I like her too mom but I have to go back to the office now to make sure Monty has everything under control and tonight I’m off to a fashion show.” “Ooh what fashion show?” “House of Queen’s autumn collection.” “Hmmm, I have one of Nia’s silver fox collared coats, your father bought it me for our 25th wedding anniversary. It’s gorgeous, like wearing a hug.” As Clarke hugs and kisses her mom goodbye, she smiles at the memory of her mom all glammed up to go out dancing with Jake and the beautiful pale leather coat with the huge fur collar.


	12. The House of Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Harper attend the fashion show, meet Mae West and see a fortune in diamonds.  
> Lexa gets a hospital visit from Clarke.

Chapter 12 

Wednesday 5th February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 1745 hours

It’s the third outfit Clarke has tried and still Harper isn’t satisfied. The skirt isn’t the problem, any of Clarke’s mid-calf length, pencil skirts are fine. They hug her hips and emphasise her slender waist in just the right way. Sexy but also professional and that little bit unobtainable that will drive Ontari wild. It’s the blouse that’s the problem. Clarke has spent her professional life being just that, professional. Her work clothes do not emphasise her ‘magnificent’ breasts, that’s Monroe’s description not Harper’s. If Harper didn’t like Clarke so much she’d hate her! But they are going to the fashion show in a professional capacity and so it’s Clarke’s work clothes, outfits that generally conceal her cleavage, that are under scrutiny.

Harper releases a long breath and Clarke leans against her desk and folds her arms, she’s beyond tired of this slightly creepy, ‘dress to impress Ontari’, business. “It’s no good I’m going to have to lend you something or wait a moment…. I have an inspiration! The last but one blouse you tried was a wraparound wasn’t it, in a zebra print?” “Yeah, so what?” Clarke is clearly exasperated. “It’s a final try out I promise! Your black skirt, paired with the zebra print blouse and may I tie the wraparound for you?” Clarke’s eyebrows lift but she changes into the skirt and zebra print blouse, she then gestures to Harper to complete the tying of the blouse. Harper does so, with great care. The end result is a plunging v neckline and a tight, almost cummerbund effect around Clarke’s waist. “Perfect, Ontari won’t stand a chance. You’ll see her drool when you walk in the door. Monroe what do you think?” Monroe pops head around the door, looks at Clarke, wolf whistles and then leaves the room. “It’ll do.” 

With the outfit sorted Clarke and Harper finalise their preparation for the interview with Ontari, assuming they manage to get one. They have expanded on Jasper’s research to try and get a picture of Maria’s life and career. They start with Maria spending three years at the House of Queen academy, receiving her diploma in 1928 (she graduated third in her class), she then went straight to work for Top Flight Studios, her first real job was in costume design rather than fashion, is that significant? – they don’t know. Clarke and Harper work through the people involved in Maria’s early career and they try to put together scenarios that could have led her to become a blackmailer and possibly connected to organised crime. Money, sex, power, fame, where were these in Maria’s life, or was her problem the fact that they were lacking in her life? 

They both agree that probably what led to her death is connected to the blackmail, even if Freddie Raspovic didn’t actually kill her himself. Could he have taken out a contract on her? Ludo Nero was a contract killer after all. 

Then there’s the blackmail itself. Maria used pictures of Freddie engaged in intimate sexual acts, where or perhaps the more pertinent question is from whom, did she get them? 

Monroe orders a cab to take them to the House of Queen and they set off as a beautiful sunset bathes Hollywood in a warm roseate glow. 

Wednesday 5th February The House of Queen, Hollywood, LA 1845 hours

The House of Queen is a four-storey building built of brick in the popular venetian style. As their cab drives up they can see that large banners decorate the building’s façade, some proclaim that the “Ice Queen Collection Will Conquer Fall” and others are immense pictures of Nia Queen and various models, swathed in pale furs against a background of colourful autumn trees. Inside the décor is, as Harper comments, the Queen’s usual ‘chilly white palatial’ style. The white drapes, chrome and thick carpets remind Clarke, a little uncomfortably, of the luxurious white interior of Los Saguaro. They check their coats in at the cloak room and carefully choose their drinks. They are offered tea, coffee and ‘tea’. The last being whisky or a vodka cocktail, poorly disguised in a tea cup. Wanting clear heads both of them choose coffee and they are guided by fur collared minions towards the main display and catwalk areas. They have about fifteen minutes before the show actually starts but even at this early stage there are over a hundred people present, chatting, drinking and looking at the sketches and clothes that are on display. Live models, walk amongst the attendees, displaying items from the collection and answering questions about what fabrics and furs are used in the clothes they are wearing. 

“Aha, you’ve been noticed,” whispers Harper. Clarke who has been watching Nia, as she works her way through the crowd, turns towards Harper only to find herself face to face with a smiling Ontari Queen. “Miss Griffin isn’t it, a pleasure to meet you?” and yes, Ontari is staring at Clarke’s cleavage. Best take advantage of her interest then. “It’s Clarke please; I was hoping you would agree to an interview Miss Queen is that possible?” “It’s Ontari, please Clarke! An interview, of course, shall we take a few minutes after the show and then the after-show party is at Raymond’s, can I escort you?” Clarke doesn’t want to go to an after-show party with Ontari and definitely not at Raymond’s. It’s not that Raymond’s is sleezy, technically it’s a very high-end restaurant, but Clarke knows it has links to the mobster Marco Ricci. But neither does she want to lose the opportunity to interview Ontari. “The after-show party? You’re too kind, but I’m duty editor at the Echo tonight so will have to make an early escape.” Ontari is undeterred, “perhaps we will be able to persuade you to spend a little extra time with House of Queen and our luxurious furs.” In the final minutes before the show begins Ontari, scarcely moving her eyes from Clarke’s breasts, does discuss the philosophy behind their fall collection. It’s all about conquering the seasons apparently. At last they are asked to take their seats to allow the show to start and Clarke breathes a sigh of relief as Ontari leaves to stand with Nia as she prepares to introduce the collection. 

“God!” says Clarke, to a hovering Harper. “I feel I need a bath and I’ve never understood eastern women’s liking for veils before now. I feel I want to wear an all-enveloping sack!” “It’s okay Clarke, I’m going to stick with you like glue after this show is over. Back in five minutes, just off to the ladies.” Clarke takes her seat in the show room and is delighted to find that her immediate neighbour is the fabulous Mae West. They start to chat and Miss West lives up to her ribald reputation by flirting with Clarke outrageously and exclaiming as she looks appreciatively at Clarke’s outfit; that it’s about time girls started showing their figures again, she’s sick of women with flat chests and no hips. She and Clarke exchange cards and Mae says she will be happy to be interviewed next week by the Echo’s fashion editor. “Just get her to call me honey and I’ll make myself available.” 

Nia Queen, a strikingly beautiful mature woman, starts the show with a brief introduction to the collection. She is, of course, wearing one of her own creations; a severe looking white suede skirt suit in a military cut, with ermine collar and trimmings. Her appearance is also noticeable because she seems to have recently raided a substantial jewellery store of its’ entire stock of diamonds. At first Clarke thought that the shimmering veils and ropes of coloured crystals, were just crystal, but Mae whispers in her ear that Nia is obsessed with diamonds and that her collection of yellow and pink diamonds is world famous. “They say, my dear, that most of the dead Tsar’s diamonds found their way to Nia. One of the reasons she wears so much white is that it shows off her coloured diamonds so well.” 

The show itself is spectacular even for Hollywood’s fashion scene and it’s difficult not to be impressed with the design skills displayed and the sheer beauty of some of the clothes. Also, it’s definitely brave, cutting edge, fashion; with a clear move away from the 1920’s boyish figure to a much softer feminine shape and natural waistline; cutting on the bias is also a clear trend that Nia is taking very seriously. The buzz after the show is huge and Harper’s notes are extensive. 

Almost immediately the lights go up Ontari is by Clarke’s side, offering her ‘tea’. Clarke takes the cup, intending to dump the contents onto some hapless plant at the first opportunity. The interview is to take place in Ontari’s office and it is only some careful coordination between Clarke and Harper that prevents Ontari spiriting Clarke away from Harper’s side for their tete-a-tete. Ontari is a little disgruntled not to get Clarke alone, but the amount of ‘tea’ she is putting away seems to be having a soothing effect on her temper and the three of them walk together to Ontari’s office in good cheer. In her office Ontari takes off her jacket, loosens her tie and relaxes, she produces a half pint of good quality whisky and three glasses, pouring them all, unasked, healthy measures. Both Clarke and Harper feel obligated to drink to the fall collection’s success and Ontari’s own contribution to it; a series of beautiful “autumn leaf” separates and sporting clothes, that in all sincerity they praise as delightful. The interview, as experienced by Ontari, is at first a complete success, she gets to stare at Clarke’s breasts for a good thirty minutes whilst sipping good whisky and talking about herself and her work. It gets a little trickier when Clarke switches topic to talk about the Academy and then its’ alumni, particularly Maria Ocardi. From what Ontari says Maria comes across as a rather sad figure, desperate to gain the friendship of her ‘betters’, as Ontari puts it. As the interview draws to a close Ontari refers to Maria as “Lorelei’s little slave” and gives a Clarke a particularly creepy look as she asks “does a little slavery appeal to you Clarke?” 

“No, it’s not really for me” stammers Clarke. She’s beginning to feel the effects of the whisky, she’s on her second glass and Ontari’s office is very hot and rather cloyingly scented by a large open bowl of potpourri and some burning incense. Her head is starting to feel heavy and her eyes gritty and unfocused, Harper doesn’t look to be faring any better. That whisky must be strong, or maybe it’s because they haven’t eaten yet or the scent or something! 

At that moment there is a knock on Ontari’s door and a fur collared assistant puts her head around the door. “Miss Queen, a Miss Monroe is here for Misses Griffin and McIntyre, something about an issue with the presses at the Echo.” At this remark, both Clark and Harper stumble up in alarm and make their apologies, as any issues with the presses must be resolved immediately. Ontari, clearly the worse for wear, tries to get them to stay a while longer or at least to promise to come along to Raymond’s later, but neither can promise anything in these circumstances. They leave, making profuse apologies and giving Ontari many thanks for the interview. 

Outside, is Monroe in a cab; Harper and Clarke bundle themselves in as quickly as they can and they speed off to the Echo. At the office Monroe’s ‘issue with the presses’ is revealed to be a ruse to get them out of there. A friend of hers who works at the House of Queen, tipped her off that Ontari thought she was onto a winner with Clarke and Harper. In view of Ontari’s reputation, including the use of drugs to subdue unwilling women, Monroe decided to take action. Harper and Clarke’s protestations that they did not need rescuing are hollow even to their own ears as both of them gratefully breathe clean air away from the House of Queen. 

Wednesday 5th February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 2200 hours

Clarke checks in with Monty that tomorrow’s first edition is on schedule. All is well. She thanks both Harper and Monroe and they set up a meeting for tomorrow afternoon to go through the interview. Alone in her office Clarke sits at her desk, breathes deeply and ponders the House of Queen. She’d like to speak to Lexa about it, but she’s probably asleep. Clarke had said she’d try to sneak in to see her. Hmm, she can only try and Bonato’s is still open and she’s starving. 

Wednesday 5th February St Vincent’s Infirmary LA 2300 hours

Clarke carries her paper bag carefully, desperate not to make any noise as she pads down the corridor. She freezes as a nursing sister opens the door to Lexa’s room. “That’s right Miss Woods I’ll be back in an hour for your tests.” The sister strides away from Clarke at a business-like clip, slipping a pencil into her apron pocket. As soon as she is out of sight Clarke taps on Lexa’s door and slips in. “Hey”, “Hey you!” Lexa’s delighted smile is worth all the effort. “How are you feeling?” “Much better, they’ve allowed me some pain relief.”

Clarke slips over to the bedside and leans into Lexa’s kiss. They both enjoy the moment and lips open to deepen the kiss. Scrunch! The paper bag is getting crushed and Clarke pulls away. “More food?” “You need to keep eating, to get your bloods up and I’m starving!” That’s enough to get Lexa pulling over the table and helping Clarke serve the food. It’s a rich Ossobuco served with lemon zest, parsley and rice. Antonio completed Clarke's order by adding some of his own venetian bread and unsalted butter. The food is irresistible and they both tuck in as Clarke tells Lexa about her experiences at the House of Queen. 

As Clarke describes the plan, hatched with Harper to get the interview with Ontari, she notices a light blush coming to Lexa’s cheeks. “Lexa, why are you blushing?” “This great food is warming me up.” “Really? It’s nothing to do with you staring at my chest in this blouse?” “I wouldn’t do that Clarke; it would be rude to stare at your chest. Very rude and inappropriate.” “So, you didn’t notice ..” “It’s not that I didn’t notice your… You have very beautiful breasts Clarke and in that blouse they are ….. I mean … oh…., I’m not explaining this well am I?” Clarke laughs as she clears their plates away. “I'd be disappointed if you hadn’t noticed my breasts in this blouse and you are not staring at me in the creepy, leery way Ontari was.” Lexa looks relieved and pulls Clarke into another kiss. 

As Clarke tells Lexa about the show and interview, Lexa chips in with what she and Anya learnt from Lucy Manilla. They conclude that there is a longstanding connection between Maria, Ontari and Lorelei. That connection with its’ ‘slave’ element may not have been very healthy, but nothing yet indicates it led to blackmail and death. Yes, Ontari is a nasty piece of work, with a dangerous reputation and with a clear head Clarke can see how that evening’s interview could have ended very badly for Harper and herself. The overheated office, strong alcohol, pungent flowers and herbs and Ontari’s control of the situation could have put both the journalists at Ontari’s mercy. Blackmail can arise from such situations and that reminds Lexa of her interview with Freddie Raspovic, something he felt ashamed of happened at that roman orgy party and from what Lexa can tell, it would take a lot to shame Freddie.

Inwardly, Clarke notes that she owes Monroe a substantial favour. Lexa is also feeling gratitude towards Monroe, but she says nothing, her feelings for Clarke are growing and seem to be reciprocated, but she is not in a relationship with Clarke and overt protectiveness may not be appreciated by the journalist.

Clarke has to go; an hour is nearly up and the nursing sister will return for yet more tests. As she stands to ready herself to leave, she ponders on how to find out more about Ontari and Lorelei. “We need to talk to Monroe, she’s very wary of Ontari and it’s as if she has some experience of how she operates. Who do you think she’ll open up to and do you think Harper being there will help or hinder?” Lexa stretches her hand out to take Clarke’s. “Perhaps you can take both of them for lunch and ask me to join you? I’ll be 30 minutes late so you three get some privacy, but after I arrive we can, if needed, open the discussion up? If that doesn’t work I can take Monroe aside for a ‘man’ talk.” Clarke’s eyebrows rise to her hairline and Lexa reddens. “It’s just a word Clarke.” 

Clarke’s eyebrows drop to their resting position and she agrees to the idea, suggesting that the lunch be at “The Brown Derby” on Vine Street. Clarke will book a table for one o’clock on Friday. That should give them plenty of time to complete the interview Harper has already set up with Gustus Trikru on Friday morning. Thursday she hopes to meet with Jasper and the Blakes and Lexa is going to touch base with Luna and Anya. Lexa mentions Cage Wallace and Top Flight’s long-term succession problems. Lexa and Clarke will both work on finding out his history, Lexa using her police contacts, Clarke will have Jasper investigate the Echo’s extensive files and ask the Blakes for the financial low down on Cage, as well as Top Flight and the House of Queen. They also know very little about Lorelei Tsing, perhaps Luna can spend some time looking into her. Lexa is to continue to work on the blackmail angle and who took the pictures of Freddie. Finally, just as Clarke turns to the door Lexa shyly asks if she is free Friday evening; Lexa has preview tickets for Garbo’s first talkie Anna Christie. Clarke’s smile lights up the rather gloomy room. “I’d love to go with you Lexa.” “Great, it’s a date, I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.” Lexa’s smile matches Clarke’s as she watches her open the door, scan the corridor and sneak out, taking her crackling paper bag with her.


	13. Investigation and dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of plot development, Ontari pursues Clarke and Ranya go on a date.

Chapter 13 

Thursday 6th February St Vincent’s Infirmary LA 0300 hours

Roma stands at the end of the hospital bed with Lexa’s overnight bag in her hand. Lexa’s changed out of her pyjamas and into the flannels, light wool shirt and pullover that Roma brought with her and now nurse Gaia is holding Lexa’s attention. “That’s fine Miss Woods, the final tests were good and Dr Jackson has authorised your discharge. Your medications and dressings are in your bag and the doctor’s strong recommendation is that you rest for another 48 hours. You know to come straight back here if you experience dizziness, blurred vision or higher pain levels.”

“Yes, thank-you Gaia and my thanks to Doctor Jackson as well.” 

Roma and Lexa move to leave. Lexa’s fairly steady on her feet, despite some strong pain medication and as they walk down the long corridors of the infirmary the old friends catch up on the last 48 hours. Roma and Nico have been busy at the house they share with Lexa and Lexa’s keen to hear what’s been happening. Technically Roma and Nico are Lexa’s housekeepers, but that was just the formal position Lexa offered them when they wanted to emigrate from the UK to America when Lexa returned home in early 1922. They all share Lexa’s big house and garden and if Roma does the gardening, Nico the cooking and Lexa provides the roof over their heads and covers everyday expenses; that is just how it works out. All three have been the closest of friends, almost since they met on the 1st July 1916; the first day of the Battle of the Somme. Nearly fourteen years later they still value each other’s friendship and the understanding each of them have, of that ‘war to end all wars’. 

When they are home at The Coppice, Lexa is persuaded to go to bed, on the promise that Roma will wake her before Luna is due to call by at 1100. A few hours of uninterrupted sleep will, Lexa hopes, refresh her tired senses. 

Thursday 6th February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 1000 hours.

Clarke looks round the conference table, Jasper, Harper, Octavia and Bellamy sip their coffees while Clarke updates them with the latest on the Maria Ocardi and now the Ludo Nero cases. The deaths of Maria Ocardi and Ludo Nero could be coincidence, or not, but in any event Ludo’s death (together with the others who died that night) is worth further investigation, especially if it’s going to start a gang war. 

Clarke starts with Jasper. He’s nothing to add to his earlier work on Maria’s death; as yet his research hasn’t brought to light any criminal convictions for any of Maria’s friends, colleagues or connections but he is still looking through the archives. Clarke wants him to stay on that research and widen its’ scope to include Top Flight’s Freddie Raspovic, Dante and Cage Wallace and the House of Queen’s Nia, Ontari and Lorelei. He’s also to put together, for tomorrow’s later editions, an article about local gangland rivalries and personalities. With these instructions Clarke allows Jasper to leave, he now has an article to write and a deadline to meet, as well as his ongoing research.

Next the Blakes have some interesting information on Top Flight Studios. Bellamy takes the lead in explaining the precarious finances of nearly all the main studios in Hollywood at the moment. Yes, they are making money, even in the depression, but the coming of the ‘talkies’ has meant studios have had to invest hugely in new equipment, new staff and in some cases new stars. Not all the silent movie stars are transitioning well to the new way movies are made with sound. John Gilbert and Douglas Fairbanks are a couple of examples of very big stars who just seem to be fading away as sound becomes the new normal in the movies. Top Flight are in there surviving, but barely. Gustus Trikru went over budget, yet again, on Silent Sins and Top Flight had to bring in outside investors just to get it finished. Its premiere is next week on the 14th February, Valentine’s Day and Top Flight are relying heavily on it taking off at the box office. Its star Freddie Raspovic is said to have turned in a fantastic performance as a noble Roman facing betrayal and war with stoic bravery. “I am reliably informed,” Bellamy tries and fails to keep a straight face, “that Freddie looks ‘beyond sexy’ in his toga!” 

Octavia sitting beside him nods vigorously and grins. Now it’s her turn to speak. “Top Flight’s difficulties are being managed well by their MD Dante Wallace, he’s got sound connections in the movie business and he used those connections to good effect to draw in investors for Silent Sins. Mainly he attracted very big movie stars who want to support him and Gustus through a tricky spot and what is probably going to be their big break through into sound. They all have confidence in Gustus and the likelihood that Silent Sins is going to make a mint of money. Preliminary bookings for the premiere and first showings generally seem to justify that. Dante doesn’t have any obvious connections to the mob or gangs but that doesn’t mean much, so we are starting to look more thoroughly into his business and personal finances Clarke and we’ll dig deeper on Cage, now we’ve heard what his own people think of him. We’ve not started on the House of Queen but I know Lexa Woods’ PA Luna has. We spoke to her this morning and she’s concentrating on what she can find out about Ontari and Lorelei and we’re focusing on Nia and any possible mob connections.” 

There’s a hubbub of talk and suggestions after the Blake’s report. Top Flight’s financial vulnerability could be the key as to why Freddie is the focus of the tip off. If his reputation is damaged now, Silent Sins could flop, Top Flight could fold or be taken over and even Gustus’ reputation could suffer. Clarke will discuss this with Lexa later today and see if she has made any progress on who is behind the tip off now that Clarke can supply some firmer ideas about the why. A few minutes later the Blakes leave the meeting to spend even more time at the State Registries. 

Clarke and Harper are left to work through their notes of the interview with Ontari. They decide it’s best to stay on good terms with Ontari and the House of Queen; so, Clarke suggests a full page spread in Saturday’s Fashion section of the paper, with a teaser on the front page to pull the readers in. The spread itself, written by Harper, will focus on the Fall Collection, with a number of photographs. House of Queen have circulated a number of excellent pictures they can use. A report of the interview with Ontari will be prominent, the lede and kicker will be in the top half of the spread. Within that interview the link will be made to Maria Ocardi’s “tragic death” and the film Silent Sins which is to premiere 14th February. That will give the Echo the chance to trail their interview with Gustus, which Clarke plans to run on the following Monday.

They leave the conference room and make their way back to Clarke’s office on the top floor. Immediately outside it they find Monroe wrestling with an enormous bouquet of highly scented flowers. Clarke reels at the overpowering perfume in the confined space of Monroe’s tiny office. “Don’t tell me, they’re from Ontari.”   
“How did you guess?” Asks a sneezing Monroe.   
“It’s the perfume, just like in her office. My god what is that smells so strong?”   
“I think it’s the combination of jasmine and gardenias, it’s just too much,” says Monroe into her handkerchief.   
“Put them in the conference room please, that should be big enough to allow the scent to disperse a little. It’s a lovely bouquet, just too much strong perfume. Is there a card?” Monroe hands her a small envelope. Clarke opens it and reads out “To beautiful Clarke who has stolen my heart. Dinner Friday night at Raymond’s 8pm. Ontari.” Clarke raises an eyebrow at the ridiculous sentiments and the presumption that she will just turn up to dinner with Ontari on demand.   
“Well, that’s not going to happen. Monroe, please contact Ontari’s office, time it for just as we’re closing this evening and give her my thanks for the flowers and apologies for Friday; I am otherwise engaged. Also are you two free for lunch tomorrow?” When both Harper and Monroe nod their agreement, Clarke asks Monroe to book a table at the Brown Derby for four at 1pm. Clarke turns to Harper, “I’m going to make your day Harper! Lunch with Lexa Woods!” Harper just manages to retain her dignity and not squeal in delight.

Thursday 6th February. The Coppice, Laverne Terrace, Hollywood 1200 hours.

Luna looks at her notes as she draws to the end of her final report, the one on Maria’s blackmail of Freddie. “We’ve not got the original photos Maria used to blackmail Freddie but from what he told you and my enquiries, we can identify the ‘roman orgy’” she finger quotes the term, “as happening on the 14th February 1928, at the home of Josephine Divine. Miss Divine is a rising starlet with Mountain Pictures; she has a rich mob boyfriend called Marco Ricci and a mansion up in the hills. That concludes my report on the blackmail.”

Lexa smiles and leans her chin on her steepled hands. This is the first solid link to the mob and it’s to a mobster Lexa knows well. “Well, well, well. Marco’s back from that short stretch I sent him on in 1923. All good things come to an end.” She stands and yawns, then pours herself and Luna more coffee. “His involvement makes some sense. He comes back from the state pen, needs to re-establish himself in this town and set up new money making and laundering schemes. I’ll talk to Anya about him and his recent activities. Good work Luna. Any idea on other attendees at the orgy?”

Luna runs her hands through her wild curls and shakes her head. “Apart from Freddie, Lucille and Josephine, I’ve had no luck.” This isn’t something I can find out from any records, it needs interviews and footwork. Lexa’s eyebrows rise. “Lucille was there as well? Freddie gave the impression, when I spoke to him, that he attended the party alone and was so out of it he couldn’t remember much about it. You’re right, I can start by going back to them and pushing.” 

Luna sips her coffee and nibbles at one of Nico’s almond biscuits. “I’m just starting on the House of Queen people. The Blakes are taking pole on Nia and I’m looking into Ontari and Lorelei. What exactly do you think they may be up to?” Lexa doesn’t want to be ‘exact’ about her ideas for Ontari and Lorelei. “They were close to Maria, that’s all we know for certain. I don’t want to narrow your focus Luna, or allow my personal dislike of Ontari to colour your view of her. I’m hoping to find out a bit more about her reputation tomorrow, I’ll let you know if anything relevant comes up.” Luna shrugs and rises to leave. She’s known Lexa for nearly four years, the woman has excellent instincts and if she dislikes Ontari it will be for good reason. But Lexa’s right she shouldn’t allow assumptions to influence her research. “Can you set up another interview with the Raspovics please Luna, I want to follow up on the photos and any link to Marco Ricci.”

Thursday 6th February Hollywood PD 1400 hours

Anya puts the telephone down and walks to the front-desk to speak to Ryder. “Can you pick up Lemon Drops McGraw for me? I want a discreet chat with him.” Ryder smiles evilly, “oh yes Lieutenant, my pleasure.” He calls to a young uniformed officer in the main office to take his place at the front-desk, before striding out into the sunny afternoon. 

Lexa telling her of the link between Maria and Marco Ricci is an interesting development for Anya, she calls Penn to her side and orders him to dig up everything he can on Ricci since his return to LA from prison. Penn is to report back to her at 1700 hours, or before, with everything he’s found. In her office Anya returns to rereading reports from Tuesday’s raid. Now she reads them in the context of looking for insights into Ludo’s murder and a possible gang war. About an hour into her reading, her attention is drawn to an interview recorded by Lincoln with Ilian, one of Luca Santoro’s goons. Ilian is in the cells now, he’s been arrested along with all the other staff of Los Saguaro; but he was also caught up in the raid on Tuesday. On Tuesday he’d nothing to say about Maria Ocardi but he had mentioned ‘Ricci’s crew’, who were trying to steal from ‘well-established’ businesses in the area. Anya stands and walks into the main office. There she finds Tybalt free to team with her in interviewing Ilian and both of them walk purposefully towards the cells. 

Another hour later Ilian is repeating, for what feels like the fiftieth time, his ignorance of anyone called Ricci and how on Tuesday he must have made a mistake when he was talking to Officer Birler. There’s a knock on the interview room door and Penn looks in. “Lieutenant can I have a quick word?” Anya grabs at a break in Ilian’s boring litany and pauses the interview for fifteen minutes. She takes Penn to her office. Penn produces various files and quickly summarises his findings. Ricci was released in November 1927, returning initially to his established patch in south LA. There he found the Mexicans in charge, with Jose Martinez taking the lead in booze, drugs, prostitution and protection. It seems Ricci couldn’t break Martinez’ hold on the area, so he started to work his way north. There he came up against, amongst others, Luca Santoro and his crew. Ilian was part of a street fight, between some of Marco and Santoro’s goons, that turned very nasty in March of last year. There’s a warrant out for him for that fight, linked to the homicide of Antony Fingers Bianchi. Anya smirks, that she can use. She and Penn return to the interview room. It doesn’t take long, Ilian knows he’s in trouble as soon as the name of Bianchi is raised. He doesn’t even lawyer up before he starts to spill his guts about the tensions caused by Ricci’s return. 

By 1800 Anya is exhausted and ready to leave the precinct at the end of her twelve-hour shift. Tybalt is laboriously typing up their interview with Ilian; it will probably be ready for signatures by tomorrow morning at the rate he types, so Anya leaves him to finish it. She checks in with and updates Indra, who of course wants more progress but with most of Santoro’s boys in lock-up for a few more hours, the night is likely to be on the quieter side. At 1830 Anya walks to her car and drives home, she has a date to prepare for.

Friday 7th February. The Biltmore Hotel, central LA. 0100 hours.

The speakeasy and club in the basement of the Biltmore Hotel is in full swing. The place is packed with couples enjoying a night of freedom from their daytime jobs and personas. On a ‘special night’ at the Biltmore, men can enjoy dressing as glamorous women and women can wear full drag, without fear of hassle or abuse. Anya, as predicted by Raven, looks gorgeous in a black tuxedo, red cummerbund and black tie. Raven’s outfit nearly gives Anya a heart attack; when they arrive at the Biltmore Anya, being polite, offers to take Raven’s coat. Removal of the long coat reveals Raven’s dress to be of a clinging deep red silk and almost completely backless. Sensing Anya’s paralysis behind her, Raven turns to face her and whispers. “Yes, you’re right, it isn’t possible to wear this dress and underwear.” Anya just manages to prevent her eyes from falling from her head, as the front of Raven’s dress is only slightly more substantial than its’ back. 

On a dance-floor the size of a pocket-handkerchief Anya and Raven dance for hours in a manner that is always a little dangerous to all those nearby. Between dances they return to their table and down shots of moonshine, both wincing at the raw taste of the spirit. Then as the night draws to a close the music changes to a slow tempo and Anya, for just one second possessed by the spirit of romance, grabs the passing flower seller and buys Raven a deep red rose. She presents it to Raven, with something of a flourish, before pulling her gently onto the dance-floor for the last waltz. Their waltz degenerates to a sensual swaying as Raven, carefully avoiding crushing her rose, nestles into Anya’s shoulder and murmurs, “we need to get out of here and out of these clothes, very soon.” Anya’s grip on Raven ass tightens slightly, her excuse is, that Raven’s ass is the only part of her accessible at that moment that is actually clothed. When the dance is over they collect their things and agree to head to Anya’s place by the sea. 

Friday 7th February Pacific Coast Road. 0130 hours.

They reach Anya’s cottage after a thirty-minute drive from the centre of LA. On the way they’ve chatted about everyday things; their families, or lack of family, their oldest friends, favourite places and music they like. Now the car stills in front of a sandy beach with rolling waves. Raven’s hand rests quietly on Anya’s knee. “Wow, what a place. You live here?” Anya nods and they leave the car, walking towards the sands. Just as Raven stoops and removes her high heels Anya, grinning at the sight of her bared feet, dips down and swings Raven into her arms and carries her bridal style down the shore. “Don’t you dare drop me.” “Never!” Anya’s declaration is confirmed by a kiss to Raven’s lips that makes Raven’s heart clench. Slowly and with great care Anya lowers Raven’s feet to the sand, toes sinking into the cool golden grains. Anya holds her close; “stay with me tonight”, Raven’s reply is to cup Anya’s face within her two hands and kiss her with such sensual passion that Anya almost drops to her shaking knees.


	14. Past, Present and Future.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya makes a breakthrough in the investigation, whilst Clarke and Harper interview Gustus Trikru. More about Ontari's dark past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER - there is reference to a historical murder and sexual assault. Nothing explicit is described.

Chapter 14 

Friday 7th February Hollywood PD 1000 hours

Lemon Drops McGraw is 6’ 6” in his stocking feet and 14 stone of toned muscle. His hair is well cut and then greased to a metallic shine, the exquisite cut of his cashmere blend pinstripe suit is fashionable, with peak lapels wide enough to serve as napkins. He’s lawyered up, with a baby-faced brief who almost looks as nervous as his client and hasn’t even got a notebook out. McGraw’s sweating buckets as Anya and Penn walk into the interview room. 

Anya hides her surprise at McGraw’s tense demeanour and drops gracefully into the chair opposite him, so much for a discreet chat! Penn stands behind her right shoulder, both of them take out their notebooks. 

Before seeing McGraw Anya had in mind an interview that maybe would get her some background on the killing, but now it’s clear to her that McGraw was in on Ludo Nero’s death; was maybe even one of the shooters. He’s known for liking a drive-by and shooting off automatic weapons. Her idea of coaxing information from him is gone, this is going to be war.

“McGraw, I was there when Ludo Nero died.” McGraw blanches and even more sweat pours from him. “I saw it happen. My colleague was injured by a ricochet, we don’t know if she’ll pull through.” Technically Anya is telling the truth, she doesn’t know Lexa’s current condition, though she’s pretty sure she’ll be fine but this is all about pressure and aggression. The brief stammers “I-I’m sure my client is s-sorry to hear that.” McGraw continues to sit in silence, sweating into his exquisite tailoring, his eyes glaze slightly and suddenly Anya gets it. Ludo, the bastard, got a few shots off before he died, McGraw’s probably got a bullet or at least a hole, in him still. Anya plays the hunch, she jumps to her feet, reaches across the table grabs McGraw by his fancy lapels and hauls him, very roughly, to his feet. His gasp of agony says it all and then he collapses, blood trickling from his mouth.

Anya turns to Penn. “When he wakes up book him for Nero’s murder, I’ll get the medics, I don’t want him to die yet”. To the brief she snarls, “you’d better hope we don’t find a bullet in him from Nero’s gun. When he’s awake your best advice to him is to cooperate, otherwise he’ll face the hangman.” 

She opens the door to the interview room and calls to Tybalt, he’s the station medic, to do what he can for McGraw. Tybalt grabs his kit and on seeing McGraw, now bleeding on the interview room floor, he tears off the man’s fancy jacket to get at what is clearly a bullet wound to the chest. The wound has been dressed, but it’s a poor attempt, and Tybalt applies pressure to slow the bleeding. Meanwhile Anya has called for an ambulance and the strains of a siren can be heard approaching. McGraw, accompanied by Penn, is alive when he’s put into the ambulance. Anya orders Ryder to arrange round the clock security for him at the infirmary.

She picks up the telephone to call Lexa as she flips through Penn’s report and Tybalt’s typed up record of the interview with Ilian. Lexa knew Marco Ricci’s operations better than anyone; she put him away for 4 years after all. Maybe she can start to pull this together, because at the moment Anya can’t see how it all fits. Sure, she’s collecting more and more information, as is Lexa and maybe also Clarke, but she can’t yet see who ordered Maria and Ludo killed, or why, even if she has a very good idea of who actually did the killings.

Luna answers Anya’s call and tells her that Lexa is reinterviewing the Raspovics this morning and then having lunch at the Brown Derby with Clarke Griffin and two others. “Luna will you update Lexa on me arresting and charging McGraw and ask her to drop by the department and see me after her lunch date?”   
“Of course, Lexa will check in with me before she goes to lunch.” 

Anya puts the phone down and leans back in her creaky office chair and for a few moments she allows herself to remember last night. Tybalt, passing her office door, starts with surprise as for the first time in his memory he, sees Lieutenant Forester smile; it’s a scary sight.

Friday 7th February The Offices of Top Flight Studios Hollywood 1100 hours

Clarke and Harper, along with a number of other local and national reporters, wait for what seems like forever, for their precious few minutes with one of Hollywood’s greatest directors, Gustus Trikru. Each paper gets the standard typed press release plus 20 minutes of the great man’s time, one on one. The press release is pretty much as expected, with great stress on the impact of sound on the great man’s cinematic vision, the wonderful performances of the leading and minor actors and actresses. And there it is, in the final paragraph, Gustus’ despair at losing the great new talent that was Maria Ocardi. “That’s it,” Clarke points at the final paragraph as she whispers to Harper “we’ve got an ‘in’ to Maria’s role in the film. We’ll play nice, you go first with your ‘Movie correspondent questions’ for the first 10 minutes, then I’ll bring in Maria and how she got the job. Ah, we’re up next, the New York Times guy is just leaving.”

A tall blonde young man, dressed in an English drape dark blue double-breasted suit, comes out of Gustus’ office and reads from a clipboard; “Hollywood Echo, Misses McIntyre and Griffin.” Harper and Clarke approach him. “You have twenty minutes and he will not answer questions about his personal or financial life.” This standard condition for all Gustus’ interviews is expected and both of them nod their agreement. Gustus protects his privacy and almost every insider of Hollywood’s movie industry knows why. Gustus is married to one of Hollywood’s minor stars Lilian Santorini, their childless marriage is promoted as happy and respectful, the couple attend many parties and events together and present a picture of warm affection. That Gustus prefers the company of men is something that is talked about but never printed; though one of the scandal rags had once tried to run interviews with some of his male friends; but that particular rag is no more, as its’ advertising revenue dried up overnight. Lilian’s career is supported by her husband and she has a minor role in Silent Sins. 

Walking into the office Clarke is struck by the sheer size of Gustus, he towers over both women and his long hair and large beard could have been intimidating if it hadn’t been accompanied by a dazzling smile and gentle manner. He starts by apologising for the long time they have had to wait to see him and then holding both Clarke’s hands in his, he expresses his sadness at Jake’s death and turning to the blonde young man he says; “Gary, forget the twenty-minute limit, this is Jake’s daughter and she can have as much time as she wants.” At Clarke’s obvious surprise he reveals that Jake had been approached time and time again to print various rumours about Gustus and had each time refused. “I owe your father many favours.”

“Thank-you for your kindness Gustus, I can assure you that I have a similar approach to Jake’s when it comes to malicious allegations.” Gustus’ smile is wide as he guides them both to chairs before sitting himself. 

The interview is, as they had planned led initially by Harper and she covers all the basics about the film’s technology, stars and budget busting scenery and crowd scenes. Then it’s Clarke who brings the conversation around to Maria Ocardi. “Gustus, you’re known for your loyalty to your own people, they’re often referred to as your ‘Trikru Clan’, what made you bring in Maria; somebody completely new to such an important position?”

Gustus heaves a great sigh and produces a large pocket handkerchief to dab at his eyes. “Lulu Fontaine has worked with me for years but she hates designing anything for films set before the Elizabethans. She’s fabulous for the 16th century and later; sets, clothes and props but earlier than that and she gets grumpy and bad tempered and relies too heavily on her assistants. So, with Silent Sins being set in the third century she was dreading it and so was I. Both of us were looking for someone new, then Freddie suggested Maria; as a mix of ‘personal favour’ to him, plus she was someone of real talent needing a break. I didn’t say yes right away, I got Lulu and Gary to research her work. It was clear that she was good, very good but that wasn’t enough, there are dozens of very good designers out there desperate to work in the movies.” Clarke becomes aware that Gustus is becoming a little uncomfortable talking about this but, maybe because she’s Jake’s daughter, he’s trying to be honest. He pauses and so she prompts him with a memory of Jake.   
“Dad often told me that some of the greats in any profession were not very nice people up close. Did she push for the work, was she unscrupulous?” Gustus’ sigh moves his entire frame; his handkerchief is put away and his eyes are free of tears.  
“I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, particularly when it is someone of great talent. Because when she worked for me Maria was so much better than ‘very good’, but yes, she had a hard side. Freddie and I are old friends, we’ve been to some crazy parties together, so he could tell me, as a friend, that she was blackmailing him over some nasty pictures. It put me in a difficult position. It would be a disaster for my picture if Freddie’s reputation was damaged and it would be a disaster for my picture if I hired Maria and she wasn’t a brilliant designer. I decided to hire her but to keep Lulu close by in case Maria wasn’t good enough. In fact, she was superb, as you will see when you view Silent Sins. She worked day and night, she and her team designed the costumes, sets and props as a coherent whole. It is truly magnificent work and she may not be much of a loss as a person, but as a designer her death is a tragedy.”  
Gary looks pointedly at his watch and Clarke knows that their time, no matter what Gustus has said, is running out. So, she tries for a final bit of detail. “You said her ‘team’, did she bring a team with her?”   
“Yes, she was clearly developing a crew of her own, completely independent of Trikru. I scarcely met them, everything I wanted went through Maria. Gary did you get to know any of Maria’s girls?” 

Gary, now looking impatient, drawls an answer. “Yeah, they were like a trio, joined at the hip. We called them the three Fates because they were always carrying threads, scissors and sewing stuff. Maria was obviously the leader but there was also…… Lorelei Tsing and a younger woman called Fox Talbot, a great name for anyone in pictures. I can’t give you any more details from memory – sorry.” Now Gustus is also looking impatient and so Clarke takes the initiative and draws their interview to a close. 

Friday 7th February The Brown Derby North Vine St, Hollywood LA 1300 hours 

With the long wait to see Gustus at Top Flight and then bad traffic coming back into the city, Clarke and Harper only just make it to the Brown Derby for one o’clock. Monroe is waiting at their table and tells them that Lexa left a message saying that she will be about thirty minutes late and would they please start without her. Clarke manages to look a little surprised at this entirely expected development. 

“Sometimes she sounds so British, it’s kind of weird” says Monroe. “Who says “would you please start without me” in America?” They all laugh and then concentrate on the menu. Eventually they put in their order, all choosing from the famous diner’s set menus. Clarke and Harper choose No 4 and Monroe No 1. As this lunch is by way of a thank-you to Monroe for getting Harper and herself out of a potential situation with Ontari, Clarke finds it easy to eventually move the conversation on from Gustus Trikru to Ontari and the House of Queen. 

“Monroe it was great that you got us out of Ontari’s office when we were both starting to feel weird because of the fumes, drinks or whatever, but why did you think you needed to ‘rescue’ us?” 

Monroe looks embarrassed; “I have a friend who works at House of Queen, on the housekeeping side and before you went to the show, I made sure she was going to be around to look out for you. She knows Ontari’s tricks and she owed me a favour, so I called it in.” 

“Look Clarke” says Harper “we both feel bad for setting you up to attract Ontari’s attention, without really telling you about how bad her reputation is.” Monroe is now blushing and looking down at the table top. “It’s me more than Harper Clarke, I knew the rumours were true, in the worst possible way. Harper just knew I hated Ontari and she had a bad reputation. I know her reputation is only the half of it. I’m really sorry Clarke, I feel bad that you’re treating me to lunch for helping you out of a fix you would never have got into if we hadn’t misled you. I let you down Clarke.” For a moment Clarke sits very still, a little taken aback; then she feels the bite of anger, these are her people now, they’re meant to be on her side and they let her walk into danger? Her brow furrows as she tries to keep her temper in check. “OK, so now it’s time for full disclosure, what did you leave out? and here’s Lexa I think she needs to hear this too.” Lexa picks up on the tension at the table as she walks through the diner to join them and so she sits quietly next to Clarke and discreetly takes her hand. Clarke, grateful for the reassurance, turns to her. “Monroe’s about to tell me everything she knows about Ontari, maybe some of it she should have told me a few days ago.”

It’s a nasty tale; Monroe keeps her voice low as she tells what happened to a young friend of hers called Pia, who developed a crush on Ontari a couple of years ago. “Pia was a typist in House of Queen’s typing pool and Ontari wasn’t interested in her at first, she’s got plenty of women to play with. Ontari, she likes to take a new woman to every ‘special night’ at the Biltmore and her reputation has always been as a rough lover, not always a bad thing, some women like her for it. Anyway, Ontari’s at the rough end of rough, if you see what I mean, her one-night stands tend to end up badly bruised, occasionally broken and sometimes cut.” Monroe’s fists are clenched and Harper puts a calming hand on her arm. Monroe takes a few seconds to compose herself before continuing. “Ontari’s rich and a friend of the great and good in LA and she’s untouchable. When a woman has the courage to complain about her, there’s never any comeback and it has to be said many of her lovers don’t complain.” Monroe shakes her head and her eyes become wet. “Anyway, Pia adored Ontari and eventually Ontari noticed her. So, one night Pia was Ontari’s date. Pia was thrilled, she didn’t mind that Ontari told her exactly what to wear and that she mustn’t tell her friends about the date. Pia ignored the last instruction anyway, telling me at least, that she was going to this fabulous private party with Ontari.” Tears are falling down Monroe’s cheeks now and she wipes them away with a napkin before looking up at Clarke. “The next day the police find Pia’s body in Laurel Canyon, she’d clearly been drugged with some opiate and was the victim of multiple, severe sexual assaults.” Monroe can’t bear to tell them the details and hopes they don’t ask. They don’t, respectful of her obvious distress. “It was never proved that Ontari was involved in her rape or death. Her story was that Pia had a great time at the party, held in some movie star’s mansion and that she dumped Ontari for some man. Ontari claimed she went home alone. The police bought Ontari’s story, some detective called Cronjager was only too happy to believe Ontari was dumped for a ‘real’ man. But Pia wasn’t interested in men, not at all. That was total bullshit. She would never have dumped Ontari for a man. I tried to explain this to the police but they just didn’t believe me. I’m so sorry Clarke, I should have told you this before you decided to attract her attention to get the interview. Now she’s sending you flowers and yet more flowers and dinner invitations.” 

Clarke, fully in control of herself now, looks Monroe in the eye. “Yes, you should have told me, but I’d probably have gone for it anyway. I wanted that interview. But I have to make this really clear Monroe, as my PA, you and me we’re a team; we look after and respect each other, if you can’t do that we won’t make it. I know I’m not my dad and you’ve had to deal with big changes with his death. I’ll give you a good reference if you want to go elsewhere.” Monroe’s response is unequivocal, she’ll never let Clarke down again, she’s desperate to stay and prove her loyalty if Clarke will allow it. Lexa, still holding Clarke’s hand, mainly because that stops her punching Monroe in the mouth, makes a quick point. “I hope it’s ok with you Clarke if I say something?” Clarke nods. “I know Cronjager, he’s in the pocket of the mob, there was never going to be justice for Pia. Nothing would be proved against the people at that party and there was no way you could have changed that. And Monroe you made sure Clarke and Harper were safe, let’s take some positives from this?” Clarke nods.

Just at this tense point; their first course arrives, soup for Harper and Clarke, salad for Monroe. Lexa, arriving late, has just ordered an entrée, so she just has to watch the others eat at this point. 

The tension gradually drops; Harper and Monroe insist on paying for the meal and some degree of good cheer is recovered. The main topic of conversation as they eat their way through lunch is Gustus’ interview and Lexa, like Clarke, is intrigued with the details of how Maria got the job with Gustus and the ‘three Fates’. After lunch Harper is keen to get back to the office to write up Gustus’ interview for Monday’s paper, Monroe wants to go with her. Clarke agrees and the couple leave the diner. 

A few minutes later Lexa and Clarke slowly make their way out of the diner and walk towards Lexa’s parked car. “Are you happy to keep Monroe on the staff Clarke?” Clarke looks pensive, “yes. I’d have liked to know more about Ontari before I met her and have the opportunity to put my own safety net in place. But to be honest Monroe had told me that Ontari was nasty in a “drugs and violence” sort of way and what’s really bugging me is that I didn’t take what she did say seriously enough. I put myself and Harper into a dangerous situation and had no real exit plan of my own. Plus, now I’m stuck with Ontari sending me bouquets and dinner invites. She doesn’t seem to take no for an answer.” Lexa agrees with this last statement and tells Clarke about her own experience with Ontari in Paris. That Lexa felled Ontari with a punch cheers Clarke up greatly and when Lexa suggests they both go to Hollywood PD to talk to Anya and try to pull together the latest information and developments, she agrees with a smile. 

Friday 7th February Hollywood PD 1500 hours

Clarke, Lexa and Anya are sitting in Anya’s office looking at the chart, Lexa has drawn up, of the main groups of people known to have connections with Maria.

She places them in five groups:  
1\. Work; Gustus, Top Flight Studios, Freddie, the Wallaces, Lorelei Tsing, Fox Talbot.   
2\. Training; Nia, Ontari, Lorelei, maybe Fox, Lucy Manilla.  
3\. Social life; Lucy, Lorelei, Ontari, ex-boyfriend Michael.   
4\. Blackmail; Freddie (and Lucille), Josephine Divine’s party February 1928, hosted with Marco Ricci. Indirectly Gustus. ‘Unknown subject, took the photos of Freddie. Unsub, gave those photos to Maria. Maybe the tip off photos are from the same event or another ‘orgy’? Unsub gave the tip off about Freddie.  
5\. Death; probably Ludo Nero and through him maybe Lemon Drops McGraw - Unsub ordered these two hits? 

“How sure are we that Maria was killed by Ludo? I know it’s his style and he was in the LA area at the time for ‘a job’, but other than that is there anything to tie him to her death?” It’s Lexa who starts off the discussion. Anya responds, “this is off the record at the moment Clarke. OK?” Clarke nods and Anya continues, “the scene was remarkably clean, so nothing from there is helpful. But now we’ve searched Ludo’s hotel room and found some useful material there. First; a suit, pretty nondescript for a sharp dresser like him, but clearly his. It has spots of blood on one of the sleeves and that blood is type A, the same type as Maria. We also found some kitchen knives, none had blood on them as they were all brand new, but they were all identical to each other and have a blade profile identical to the knife used to kill Maria.” Lexa hums, “Anya do you remember the interview with Lenny the Smoke? He was on the back lot of Top Flight Studios for most of the afternoon before Maria was murdered, maybe a chat with him will place Ludo nearer to Maria than the general LA area. With Ludo dead Lenny may be happy to open up?” Anya nods and makes a note, “I’ll get Ryder to pick him up.”

Clarke shifts in her seat. “From what I know of Ludo from my Chicago days, his standard MO would be to take a few days to learn about his mark, then do a quiet and quick stabbing, with his exit route and knife dump planned. But he could be flexible; for example, it was never proved that he killed Madelaine Dumont in Chicago three years ago, but everyone ‘knew’ he did it. The MO for that killing was a ‘fake’ crime of passion at her workplace, using a kitchen knife that he brought with him. That killing was really a protection racket hit. Madelaine’s boss had refused to pay the going rate.” Both Anya and Lexa nod acknowledgment at this further information about Ludo; it’s looking more and more likely he was Maria’s killer. Lexa’s happy with making at least some progress but frustration creeps into her voice. “But who ordered the hit? If Cokey Saunders told the truth, Ludo was “not one of Marco’s boys, but close to the Italians”. It’s Clarke who says “Ludo was never anyone’s ‘boy’ he was always an independent contractor, bought in for a specific ‘job’.” 

They move on to talk about why Ludo was killed and by whom. Lemon Drops McGraw is currently undergoing surgery to remove a bullet from his chest, if that bullet can be ballistically matched to Ludo’s gun, it’s very strong evidence that Lemon Drops was one of Ludo’s killers. Lexa and Anya have come across Lemon Drops many times over the years. Anya explains to Clarke “Lemon’s worked freelance for years but we know he hates Martinez, there’s bad history between them. So, his usual employers would be our friends ‘the Italians’, that is in LA; Luca Santoro or Marco Ricci. But if he’s one of Ludo’s killers he definitely wasn’t working for Luca Santoro on that hit, as a number of the victims were Luca’s own men and Los Saguaro is Luca’s club, currently closed because of the killing. That leaves Marco as his most likely boss for Ludo’s hit. It also fits with Marco returning to LA after his jail time and the tensions Ilian was telling us about yesterday between Martinez and Ricci and Santoro and Ricci.” 

Lexa muses “Marco could be cleaning house, it’s his pattern. He really doesn’t like loose ends. If Maria’s blackmailing Freddie was either aided by him or at his behest, Marco may well have wanted rid of her so she couldn’t link him to it. He then has Ludo killed to completely destroy any back-trail between him and the blackmail. But why blackmail Freddie in the first place? I know your people Clarke have done some work on this; can you tell Anya their findings?” 

Clarke summarises the Blakes' reports. They all fall silent when she has finished, thinking it through, but it’s Lexa who first puts it into words. “Top Flight are vulnerable in the short and the long term, especially if Cage really is as useless as Lucy Manilla seems to think. Also keep his name in your mind, as I’ve got more information on him from the Raspovics. A film studio could be a vehicle for money laundering on a massive scale, it can also make very big money in its own right as a legitimate business; getting control of an established studio could be an attractive prospect to Marco.” As they are now talking about the movie studio and its people, Lexa tells them about her reinterview of Freddie and Lucille this morning.

“Okay, so I went to push them for more names and information about the ‘roman orgy’ party in February 1928. First thing, both Freddie and Lucille were present at the party. They tend to split up and operate separately in these situations apparently, so that is why Freddie didn’t mention Lucille’s presence in the last interview.” Anya and Clarke snort in disbelief. “Lucille says she spent most of the evening in some upstairs suite engaged in a ‘slave rebellion role play’ with Ontari Queen and some others. She says she doesn’t know their names and apparently she passed out at some point and missed a fair amount of the action! Freddie meanwhile spent most of the party off his head on something; he said he’d asked for cocaine but whatever it was he was given it wasn’t cocaine. He takes the stuff, gets what he calls ‘a raging erection’ and he has a vague recollection of any number of women and men assisting him in getting rid of it. I asked for names, he says once he took ‘the stuff’ it all goes hazy and he can’t remember much and definitely no names. Before he took the drug he does remember being introduced to the party’s hosts Josephine and Marco. They chat about movies, studios and the coming of the talkies. Josephine and Marco don’t stay with him long and he then joins a group of people he knows; Ontari Queen, Fox Talbot, Cage Wallace, Michael Farmer (one of the producers of Silent Sins) and Lorelei Tsing. Soon after, he takes whatever it is they give him and then the only thing that registers in his head is the need to…..fuck. He has no memory of anyone taking photographs or even having a camera.” Lexa ends her story with a frustrated shake of her head. 

They continue to talk through various possibilities for another hour but at 1700 Anya brings things to a close. They have a plan, of sorts. Luna and Lexa will continue to investigate the personal and financial lives of Lorelei and Ontari. Clarke and the Blakes will work on the finances of the Wallaces, House of Queen and Nia. Anya will check Hollywood PD’s records on Cage Wallace and will get Penn to dig deeper on Marco Ricci’s current activities, though she does warn them, off the record, that LA PD’s organised crime division is rife with corruption and so she doesn’t expect much help from them. All three of them will try and find out something about Fox Talbot, whoever she is. Anya and Clarke agree on another press release and an exclusive angle for the Echo on Hollywood PD’s findings in Ludo’s hotel room.

As they are leaving the building Clarke checks with Lexa that she is feeling ok and whether she still able and wants to meet up later. Lexa smiles and assures Clarke she is very much looking forward to having her company at the film and possibly a light supper afterwards, if Clarke is ok with that. They agree that Lexa will pick Clarke up from her cottage at 7 o’clock, the film starts at 8 and has a running time of ninety minutes.


	15. Of Movies, Gymnasia and Gangland Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clexa is disrupted twice and our women can be sweet and tough.   
> Lincoln's gym starts to shape up and there's a shocking start to the gangland war between Santoro and Ricci.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING - of homophobic abuse in the paragraph marked by *****. It is a single phrase but the abuse and incident is necessary as it leads to an important conversation between Clarke and Lexa.

Chapter 15 

Friday 7th February Hollywood Boulevard, Hollywood 2145 hours

It’s foggy when they leave the theatre arm in arm, it’s not too cold but they’re glad of their coats. Clarke’s having fun, the movie was heavily dramatic, tragic at times but also completely ridiculous. No-one wears that much make-up on a tug boat at sea! Lexa is relaxed and seemingly well on the way to recovery from her injury. They’re trying to remember some of the lines from the film. Clarke starts off, she’s pretending to be Garbo as Anna Christie, complete with husky accent. “Give me a whiskey, ginger ale on the side….and don’t be stingy, baby.” Lexa as the bartender is sarcastic: “Well, shall I serve it in a pail?” Clarke, sighs dramatically: “Well, that suits me down to the ground.” They’re drifting down the boulevard away from the Chinese Theatre and in full starstruck movie goer mode. Now it’s Lexa’s turn to quote and she goes for the last line in the picture, complete with a heavy accent and full-on dramatic arm gestures; “Fog, fog all time. You can’t tell where you was going. Only that old devil sea. She knows.” Clarke applauds, then quotes Garbo again, arching her brows “I’ll try anything once!” 

*****  
Suddenly, out of the fog, the pavement in front of them is blocked by three men; they look dirty, unkempt and ready to fight. Lexa moves to stand in-front of Clarke. “Well, the bull-dyke steps forward, protecting her girl.” It’s the middle one of the three who speaks, in a sing song taunting voice. “We can show you a good time honey, leave this fake man behind, we can give you what you want.” All three of them laugh. Clarke looks around, there’s no one close by to help. Lexa’s voice is cool. “We don’t want trouble, just on a night out to the movies.” Clarke feels Lexa’s shoulders move and sees the knife slide into her right hand; this could get deadly if it isn’t stopped now and Lexa is still recovering from a gunshot wound for heaven’s sake. Clarke’s movements are hidden behind Lexa and so no one sees her reach into her small leather shoulder bag. For a few seconds it’s a standoff; the men holding back, whispering to each other, when they see that Lexa is armed. Clarke steps to her left and alongside Lexa; this keeps Lexa’s right hand free, while allowing Clarke’s dominant left hand to raise her small semi-automatic pistol. “I have what I want, right here. All that’s needed is for you gents to leave, now.” Clarke’s voice is cold, her hold on the small gun, a Colt hammerless 1903, is firm and steady. The men’s eyes widen and their stance stiffens, they draw back from the couple.  
*****

“Ladies, ladies we didn’t mean nuthin’! He’s had too much to drink. Come on Harry let’s walk.” It’s the man standing on the right of the group who’s speaking now, clearly a little dry mouthed. He drags at his friends and all three move off quickly, stumbling a little as they walk down the street. Clarke and Lexa watch them until they turn south into Fuller Avenue and out of sight. Clarke grimaces and quotes Garbo’s Anna as she puts her gun away. “Well, ain’t they fussy in this dump.” Lexa slides her knife back into her sleeve and turns to a pale looking Clarke. “Let’s get out of here, do you want me to drive you straight home, or to your mother’s or you could come to my place, Roma and Niko would love to meet you.” 

Clarke feels the adrenaline drain from her body and shock start to take a hold. “I don’t want to be alone tonight; I’d like to be with you at your place.” As they drive to Laverne Terrace they talk quietly about why Clarke is almost always armed; she had some bad experiences in Chicago and Jake threatened to come over there and bring her home unless she learnt to defend herself. Clarke took his advice/threat seriously and is now an excellent shot. They also talk about why Lexa prefers wearing men’s clothes most of the time; even if unpleasant confrontations and name-calling does sometimes happen. “I’m not a man Clarke, I’m not trying to pass and I don’t want to be a man. I’m a woman who feels more comfortable in these clothes and who; when I love, I love a woman.” She pauses, as they park up in front of her house and turns to look at Clarke. “Maybe the clothes thing is also a bit of defiance. I was Costia’s ‘dirty little secret’ for too long. When we were together, here in America anyway, Costia insisted that I always wore women’s clothes, even to play social tennis.” 

Lexa’s head drops and Clarke tenderly places her hand to Lexa’s cheek. “I know we’re just at the start of ‘something’ and I don’t know where we’ll end up, but I don’t want a ‘dirty little secret’ with you Lexa.” She takes in a breath, “if we love, it will be in the open.” Lexa lifts her head and her smile is so beautiful it takes Clarke’s breath away. Then Lexa turns, gets out of the car to open the car’s door for Clarke and is guiding her to the house; where two people, both dressed in old plaid dressing gowns and striped pyjamas, start to fuss over the pair when Lexa explains why they are home early. 

It’s Roma who takes Clarke into a snug dressing room and suggests she change into comfy pyjamas and a big fluffy robe and Roma helps Clarke wash off her makeup and change. As she drapes the robe over Clarke’s shoulders she tells her, “there’s a lovely fire, a huge sofa and Niko is making a quick supper for us all. I’ll get a fire lit in your room and put a hot water bottle into the bed. You need a bit of spoiling my dear, after a horrible experience like that.” When Clarke asks if Lexa will be ok, Roma’s smile widens. “She’ll be fine, Niko’s heating up her favourite corned beef hash and that always makes her smile. She’s a tough one Clarke, she’s had to be, but it hasn’t made her hard.” A few minutes later they’re downstairs and Clarke is snuggled up to Lexa on a very comfortable old sofa, as they both eat delicious hash, drink hot sweet tea and chat about Garbo and the change to talkies. Roma and Niko interject their opinions on Garbo whenever they can tear their attention away from their chess game. Soon Clarke’s head is nodding and Lexa’s walking her upstairs to the open door of a pleasantly furnished guest room. As Roma promised a fire is lit and the room is warm. On the table by the bed is a carafe of water and some biscuits. “I’m nearby if you need anything,” Lexa points to a door down the hall. “Are you okay Clarke, is there anything you need?” Clarke is very tempted to say ‘just you’, but instead she leans into Lexa’s embrace and they kiss. It’s gentle, they are both utterly exhausted, but their arms fold around each other and neither wants to let go. Clarke’s head falls onto Lexa’s shoulder. “I don’t want to move.” She’s almost pouting and a smiling Lexa picks her up and carries her into the bedroom. “Strong, hmmf, very sexy.” Clarke yawns widely and snuggles into the pillow when Lexa places her on the turned down bed and pulls the bed-sheets over her. “Goodnight Clarke”, “Goodnight Lexa”.

Saturday 8th February The Offices of the Hollywood Echo 1100 hours

Next morning Lexa drops Clarke into work, before making her way to Hawthorn Avenue North to meet up with Lincoln, Indra and Anya. Lincoln’s found a suitable site for his new gym and everyone’s keen to see it and help with what needs to be done to get it up and running. Clarke quite likes ‘dressed down’ Lexa in an aertex shirt, pale brown carpenter’s dungarees and big boots. The Woods made their money in timber and furniture and all of them love to work with wood; Lexa is no exception and her handmade furniture and carvings are sought after by dealers all over the state. 

Clarke walks up the stairs heading to her office, she needs the exercise after Niko’s fantastic breakfast spread. The whole morning thing at Lexa’s has been a delight. They’d let her sleep in, so when she’d dressed and made her way downstairs she found Niko in the kitchen cooking and Roma and Lexa in the big lean-to greenhouse. It’s a lovely day with hazy sunshine and already the day is starting to warm up. Lexa takes the opportunity to show Clarke around the house and gardens. The Coppice was built in the 1890s by Lexa’s grandparents in an Arts and Crafts Movement style, so the house has lots of gables, small multi-paned windows, dark wood and red brick. The garden is enormous and mainly under Roma’s control. “Roma loves to grow vegetables Clarke and we are almost self-sufficient for fruit as well. Also, Niko persuades her to grow countless herbs for his cooking and healing. He was a doctor in the Great War but now he can’t bear to be in a hospital environment for any length of time, so he works with local people to use native plants in healing and his knowledge of European folk remedies seems endless. He has a tea for just about anything that ails you. He knows your mother Clarke, she’s one of the few doctors in LA who’s prepared to work with his type of remedies.” The neat rows of seedlings and established plants and shrubs is impressive and Clarke loves the orchard. “One of the reasons we use so much wood and it smells so sweet when we burn it, is that we have so many old fruit trees.” “You work in the garden too Lexa?” “Oh yes, the trees are my responsibility Clarke. My family is called Woods for a very good reason, we’ve always worked with wood, whether it is as the bearer of fruit, as a fuel, or to be worked into carvings, furniture or buildings. If it involves trees a Woods is interested.” They move closer to the house and more formal gardens and of course, there’s a tennis court and outbuildings including Lexa’s workshop and a stable block. There are no horses. “You don’t ride?” “I love horses, but since Palomo died a year back I haven’t had the heart to look for another and Niko and Roma don’t ride.” Then the sound of Niko calling “breakfast” has them hurrying back inside. 

Remembering that breakfast has Clarke almost breaking into a run up the final flight of stairs. Saturday is usually Monroe’s day off so Clarke’s surprised to see her and Harper working together in Monroe’s tiny office. “Hi Clarke, I’ve just about finished the Gustus Trikru interview piece and Monroe had a brainstorm and decided to look through the archives for old clippings on House of Queen and came up with some interesting stuff.”   
Clarke’s impressed. “Great work ethic you two, give me a couple of minutes to change and then tell me the dirt on House of Queen.” Clarke changes in her office into a relaxed ‘sailor middy’ outfit of wide double buttoned pants and a white knit top with flat white canvas shoes. When she slips into Monroe’s office a couple of minutes later, Harper jumps rather guiltily from Monroe’s lap. 

Monroe nods to Harper and directs Clarke’s attention to three folders they have set to one side. Monroe opens the first folder and explains that House of Queen started twenty-five years ago with Nia Queen and her husband Peter Kristen in partnership. Nia was the design inspiration, especially with her ‘snow furs’ and he managed sales and publicity for the firm. Cece, Nia’s sister, organised the production side of things but wasn’t a partner in the firm. There are interviews with all three and photos; Monroe passes over about fifteen clippings for Clarke to check through. “It’s all very cosy and family based at that point, the main product is fashion in leather and fur. All goes well for many years; Nia has great design skills and it seems that the world never tires of leather and fur! In early 1923 Peter dies (Monroe passes Clarke clippings of his obituary and funeral), Cece’s daughter Ontari joins the team that year and they change the business model from a partnership to a limited company with shareholders. Nia has 50% of the shares, Cece has 25% and so does Dante Wallace!” Clarke gasps in surprise and Monroe gives Clarke more clippings of interviews Nia gives about the changes to the business and how wonderful it is to have investment from Dante. 

“So,” says Clarke, “there’s a direct financial link between the fashion house and the movie studio.” “That’s not all, it’s a personal link as well,” says Monroe, opening the second file. “The gossip columnists are having a field day over their social lives. Look at these clippings, Dante and Nia are connected socially and in late 1923 they’re clearly a couple!” Clarke skim reads the gossip columns from August to December 1923, Nia and Dante are a striking, mature couple, pictured together in affectionate poses and frequently mentioned together in the Echo’s social diary. It's noticeable that Nia's love of diamonds is coming to the fore. In the early days of the business she wore a few diamonds but by late 1923 she's dripping with the precious stones in every picture and her collection is worthy of a mention in the text of the gossip column. Also, a couple, are Cece Queen and Freddie Raspovic, attending the same social events as Nia and Dante and they too are pictured together on many occasions. But all this social connection seems to stop in mid 1924, as Nia and Dante, Cece and Freddie, disappear from the society pages as couples. They continue to be in the gossip columns at various events and with various people, but no longer together.

Clarke frowns trying to put it all into some kind of pattern, as Monroe pushes the third file towards her. “Cage Wallace has a profile in the society and professional pages too Clarke, nothing very interesting. But we also have a ‘not for publication’ section on him.” Clarke knows what this means, someone’s tried to sell embarrassing information or photos to the Echo about Cage and Jake had said no; either because they were just for malice or Jake couldn’t find enough evidence to allow him to publish without being in danger of a libel suit.

According to the file, Cage has more than his fair share of ‘rich boy’ scrapes. He favours south and central LA as his playground rather than Hollywood. “At least he doesn’t **** on his own doorstep,” mutters Harper. It’s not an edifying read, in fact Clarke feels nauseous when she finishes reading the details of; the four expensive cars he’s written off (maybe he was under the influence of drink or drugs, if so, there’s no police record of that), the three boisterous ‘rough housings’ he was part of, where men and women were savagely beaten, and the three allegations of rape that somehow never resulted in charges. It must have cost Dante a fair penny to keep him out of jail. “Oh my, isn’t he nasty and expensive with it,” breathes Clarke. 

Monroe then reaches back to a bookshelf behind her desk and hands Clarke a final clipping and photo she has put to one side. “Clarke,” Monroe points to a figure in the picture “that’s Lorelei Tsing”.

Saturday 8th February 2124 Hawthorn Avenue South 1200 hours

The building Lincoln’s chosen will never be called pretty. It’s a massive grey box of reinforced concrete and criss-crossing steel girders. As Lexa approaches the wide-open double doors she can hear a babble of voices. “Hey Lexa!” Lincoln spots her first. Octavia is on his shoulders tying up a banner that reads, “Birler’s Boxing and Fitness Gym”, over a large reception desk. Indra is further inside holding one end of a tape measure, Bellamy Blake is holding the other, noting down dimensions in what looks suspiciously like a Hollywood PD notebook. 

Anya and Raven are painting the immense back wall of the gym a dazzling white, using rollers mounted on long poles. Quite how Raven managed to get her overalls almost completely covered in paint is a mystery, when Anya appears to be able to paint without wearing a drop. Walking over to Lincoln, who carefully places Octavia onto the floor, Lexa is pulled into one of his bear hugs. He releases her and starts to show her around the place. “We’ll avoid the back wall; Raven managed to create some sort of paint firing gun that backfired and she’s still mulling over how to get Anya as covered in paint as she is.” It takes a while to show her the whole place; immediately in-front of the open street doors is an airy open lobby area, to its’ right is the reception desk, to the left is a fair-sized swimming pool with adjacent changing rooms. Further into the building is a huge open space where the boxing rings, martial arts / exercise floor and the bag, rope and speed ball sections are to be set up. Lexa can see there’s another set of changing and locker rooms butting up to the back wall. A few yards behind the reception desk is a rough looking curved concrete wall, already painted bright white, with a door that opens into a fair-sized room currently occupied by a full-size billiard table, a few chairs and some filing cabinets; the back door is open onto a service alley. Lexa takes a quick look up and down the alley, it looks clean and like the neighbourhood, well cared for. She turns back to Lincoln who taps the top of the billiard table, “we can’t get it out of the front or back doors without taking it apart, it’s got a solid slate slab under that baize and weighs a ton. Maybe I’ll just put a board on the top and use it as a huge desk! This is meant to be my office." They walk back into the open front area and Lincoln gestures into the huge space. "I've got lots of room but not many rooms, if you see what I mean. So, I’m going to put some lockable storage chests in this big exercise area, so the equipment is always near where it’s needed and not cluttering up my office in that back room.” Lexa happily picks up some cloths and supplies and is directed by Lincoln to start rubbing down the benches in the locker rooms. 

About three hours later Clarke and Luna arrive bringing a late lunch. It’s a simple meal of bread, cold meats, cheeses and salads, washed down with some bottles of beer that Lincoln discreetly produces from the back room. Before they can even sit to eat, Anya and Raven have to go and shower and change. Both are now covered in paint as Raven’s second attempt at a paint gun worked perfectly and Anya had been the target. They disappear into the changing rooms for quite some time, before returning looking very scrubbed and smirking. Clarke saves them food and beer, knowing that Raven, deprived of food and sustenance, is a dangerous woman. 

When lunch is drawing to a close and everyone is still sitting in a food induced haze Clarke tells them the story of the House of Queen and the tangled financial and emotional connections Monroe found. The final surprise being what appears to be a picture of a private civil wedding ceremony between Cage Wallace and Lorelei Tsing. 

Anya’s search for a police record for Cage Wallace had drawn a blank, but she’s unsurprised at the likely corruption in LA PD that is behind his lack of a record. The Blakes confirm the business aspects of Monroe’s research into the House of Queen and explain why changing from a partnership to a limited company made it easier for Dante to invest money into the business. They can also contribute their knowledge of House of Queen’s finances. Once it became a limited company, the House of Queen had to file annual accounts and various other company documents and these tell an interesting story. “We were going to put it into a formal report for you on Monday Clarke, but we can summarise it now if you want?” Clarke agrees and Octavia gives a brief rundown of their findings. 1923 – 1925 things go well for the fashion house but in 1926 there is a marked change. “Their outgoings, things like wages and expenses suddenly rocket, so despite the fact that their clothes are still selling well the company starts to lose money. The financial state of the company just gets worse year on year. No dividends have been declared since 1927, so the shareholders who used to make a reasonable income from their shares are now getting nothing back on their investment. To make money out of the House of Queen you have to be on the payroll, or have a nice fat expense account or even better, both.” Octavia pauses to finish her beer and to give her audience the chance to process this information. 

Lexa leans forward. “Do we know who has the big wages and expense accounts? I can guess it’s Nia, Ontari and Cece but do we know that?” It’s Bellamy who responds, “we know that as company directors Nia and Cece take home very serious chunks of cash, but Ontari isn’t a director so we don’t know her salary and it’s the same with Lorelei Tsing, we know she’s on the payroll but don’t know how much she’s earning as Head of Development; that’s her job title.” Clarke and Anya exchange a look and Anya nods for Clarke to ask her question first. “But Dante’s getting nothing for his 25% share of the business?” Octavia nods, “Yep, he is getting a zero return on the serious money he invested in 1923 and even worse he can’t even get his original stake back. With the company being in such poor financial shape, if he sells his shares he won’t get half what he paid for them, that is, if anyone will even buy them.” Anya asks, “who are the directors, they run the company? Is it just Nia and Cece?” “Yes, they have complete control.”

They bounce ideas around for a while, it’s a messy and dirty web of connections, with little that amounts to concrete evidence for the police to work with. Lorelei Tsing is a key player but apart from what Monroe and the Blakes have picked up she’s difficult to get any information on. Luna’s not found any California State records of Lorelei’s birth or any marriage and she doesn’t have a driving license or any sort of criminal record. Luna’s going to talk to a connection she has in the tax office on Monday, with luck that will turn up something to work with as surely Lorelei pays tax! 

It’s Lexa who draws the long discussion to a close. “You’ve got two businesses in the glamorous big money-making worlds of fashion and movies. Both of them are shaky financially, both have Dante Wallace as an important player. Maybe it’s all about him, a big reputable name in Hollywood, being pressured into letting in dirty money? Maybe it’s Marco putting on that pressure with the assistance of Maria Ocardi and the House of Queen, who have their own beef with Dante? We need to talk with Dante, but without any of the other players in this dirty game knowing. Can we find out how he spends his time, so we can approach him informally?” That’s the next step, everyone agrees. They’ll continue with the enquiries that are currently ongoing but all, except Anya and Indra who have their hands full with a likely gang war, are to work on how to approach Dante. Anya leaves ahead of the others as she is on duty at 1800 hours.

It’s dark when they eventually make their way outside and Lexa offers to drive Clarke home. Clarke’s very happy to accept a lift and they drive to Long Canyon. It’s a silver night, with a large moon and the car’s headlights cutting white swathes through the darkness as they leave the city behind. They’ve been talking about the Echo and Jake for a while and Clarke’s left hand has come to rest on Lexa’s thigh; both are conscious of the gesture and of the slight caressing movement of Clarke’s fingers against the rough cotton drill of Lexa’s dungarees. Lexa parks up outside the small cottage and for a second they sit in the car “You’ll come in for a while?” Clarke’s mouth is suddenly dry and her voice a little shaky. “Thanks, I’d love to.” Lexa opens the car door for Clarke and they make their way up the moon-lit path to the stable style front door. “It used to be the stable block for a big farm that’s long gone now. My grandmother lived here until a couple of years ago.” Opening the door Clarke walks into the dark space and starts switching on lamps. Lexa can see a long low, comfortable looking, room. It’s a little bare of furniture and there are boxes piled in one corner. Clarke turns to Lexa “Would you like a drink?” “I’d love one, but I’d like to kiss you first, if I may?” At Clarke’s nod Lexa pulls Clarke into her arms and it’s like taking a long cool drink on a hot dry afternoon; the kiss refreshes, fills and awakens Clarke’s senses. Clarke’s arm folds around Lexa’s shoulders, her hand touches the soft skin covering Lexa’s collarbone and both of them draw in short breaths, before deepening the kiss. “I want you,” Clarke speaks, sensing that Lexa is giving her control. “This is real and I …” Lexa’s lips take her words away for a second. “Sorry, you’re just too kissable.” They hold each other, eyes lost each in the other’s gaze and the telephone’s ring is very, very loud. “I have to get that.” “I know.” Clarke crosses the room and picks up the receiver, she beckons Lexa to come and sit beside her. “Clarke Griffin, can I help you? …. Hi Murphy, what’s the problem?....... Oh my god!” Clarke looks alarmed. “When did it happen? Yes, I know how to contact Miss Woods. Thanks Murphy.”

Clarke turns to Lexa, “There’s been a series of drive-by shootings. As we thought Ricci and Santoro have turned on each other, but they’ve decided to battle it out on Martinez’ turf in South LA. Apparently there’s a gun battle in progress in South Park. LA PD called in Hollywood PD for help and Anya’s been shot. She’s in the infirmary and they’re asking for you as her nominated next of kin.” They both sprint to Lexa’s car and she drives off coaxing everything she can out of the roadster as they speed back to LA.


	16. Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya is out of surgery but is still in danger.  
> Clarke has a surprise visit from Ontari.  
> Ontari gets a punch in the face!  
> Clexa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER the chapter bracketed with ***** contains a minor sexual assault.   
> I accept no sexual assault is really 'minor' but at the moment I can't think of a better way to describe it.

Chapter 16 

Sunday 9th February St Vincent’s Infirmary LA 0001 hours

They’ve been waiting in the reception area for hours but now she’s out of surgery they can sit in Anya’s room, waiting for her to come around from the anaesthetic. Raven sends Clarke and Lexa to look for Abby and she’s left on her own with Anya, who’s long pale form is very still in the metal infirmary bed. The stiff white sheets are tented and held away from Anya's chest by a metal cradle, that Raven is already redesigning in her head to improve its efficiency and comfort. Watching her lover’s chest rise and fall in shallow uneasy breaths is one of the scariest things Raven’s ever seen; she bites her lip and tries to keep control of her tears. She’s only just found the woman who could be ‘her’ person in life and losing her is unthinkable. A hand touches her shoulder and Raven looks back to see Clarke has entered the room, together with Lexa and Abby. It’s Abby who, when told by Lexa and Clarke about Anya’s relationship with her, has allowed Raven to sit with Anya. No-one else was prepared to recognise her as a significant other or next of kin. Lexa had been named by Anya, years ago, as her next of kin on her police records.

Abby looks at the chart at the end of the bed and she gestures to Raven and Lexa to come out into the corridor with her. Clarke says “I’ll stay, you two speak with my mom.” Raven stands, leans very carefully over Anya and kisses her gently on the lips murmuring, “I’m here for you lover, come back to me.” Outside Abby’s face is serious but, Raven notes, not sad. So, there’s hope. “We’ve got the bullet out, it did serious damage to a rib but only grazed her lung. She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s strong and can cope with that. The dangers are; first the anaesthetic; we had to put her out for quite some time so we could extract the bullet and clean out all the tiny shards of shattered rib bone. Second is infection; we’ve no easy way of dealing with an infection if it starts to take hold. The bullet was low velocity, that’s good, but also bad because it probably means that it went through something or somebody else, before it hit Anya and so it’s likely carried into Anya’s body all sorts of debris that could set up an infection.” Lexa breathes deeply and looks up, “can Niko help? I know he’s worked on using honey and garlic to fight infections.” Abby smiles, “I’ve spoken to him and he’s bringing over some of the honey dressings he’s developed. If her temperature spikes we’ll use them straight away. There’s also some experimental work done in England that we’re trying to replicate here, using a bread mould. If necessary we can try that, as we have a batch that’s nearly ready to use. She has a chance Raven, if you can, I suggest you stay with her for a while, we need her to want to come out of that anaesthetic.”

They arrange to sit with Anya in shifts. Raven until 0500, then Lexa until 1000. Lexa will contact Lincoln and Indra to come in after her and if it’s needed they’ll organise more cover. Both Clarke and Lexa suspect it might take a bomb to shift Raven from Anya’s side but even if she refuses to go, others can help her through the wait.

Clarke and Lexa get some supplies from the late-night store next to the infirmary and take them to Raven. Anya’s condition seems unchanged as they hug Raven and take their leave. Walking away down the corridor they hear Raven telling Anya off, for being a ‘clumsy stupid-ass cop, who gets herself shot!’

Outside it’s a warm humid night and the couple walk towards Lexa’s car. “How’re you coping Lexa? You and Anya, you’ve been close for years.” Lexa stops, leans back against the car’s bonnet and runs her hands through her loosened hair. “Yeah, I’ve known her since I got back to the states in ‘22 and joined Hollywood PD. She was my mentor on the force, my partner on the beat and we’ve been in some tight spots. With her and Indra’s support I made lieutenant, locked up Marco Ricci, for a while anyway and was making something of my life. Then she helped get me through Jaha’s sacking and Costia dumping me.” Lexa smiles wryly and rubs her hands over her face. “Once I was just so mad at everyone I went out drinking and looking for a fight; I did a lot of that at the time and ended up punching Anya in the face when she tried to stop me. She just punched me back, harder and it must’ve knocked some sense into me. I stopped the fighting and applied for my PI licence.” She rubs her jaw at the memory, her voice falters and she folds her arms tightly over her chest. Clarke’s heart aches for her and she gently touches Lexa’s arm, “what do you want to do now?” 

At Hollywood PD Indra and the officers from the South Park gun battle are back at their station house, checking in their weapons and ammunition and finally writing their reports. In Indra’s office Lexa and Clarke update her on Anya’s condition. Anya’s is the only serious injury, although a few others have grazes and cuts and Indra herself has a bandaged hand. They talk through what happened. Indra is convinced it was an organised battle, Luca Santoro and Marco Ricci choosing to fight it out on Martinez’ turf. “Who won?” Indra grimaces and then shrugs, “Ricci..... maybe.” They look through the report Indra was reading when they arrived. The body count is five dead each side but Santoro’s men left the scene on foot, their cars shot out and burning and Indra and the LA PD Captain Lopez think Santoro had more men wounded than Ricci. “It’ll take a while for the snitches to give us some idea of what actually happened to kick this off in South Park, but my guess is that Ricci provoked Santoro and then set up an ambush, hoping to wipe out a good number of his men. I don’t think it worked as well as he hoped.” Having set up Indra and Lincoln as part of the team sitting with Anya, Lexa and Clarke leave Hollywood PD. 

Lexa takes Clarke back to her cottage in Long Canyon and after a prolonged good night that starts at her door and ends up on Clarke’s couch, a dishevelled Lexa reluctantly leaves to go home to freshen up, change and get ready to sit with Anya for the 0500 – 1000 hours shift.

Sunday 9th February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 1200 

Clarke’s sitting at her desk, a little sleepy after last nights events. She doesn’t always work Sundays but when she does, the office is so quiet and she gets through so much work, it’s always worth it. Today it’s the latest circulation and advertising figures that are on her agenda and the agenda she’s creating for her management team meeting late next week. Her desk is covered in labelled folders and she’s flicking through the bundled minutes of the advertising team’s meetings when her office door is flung open and Ontari Queen breezes into her office. “Clarke, I’ve found you!” Clarke physically startles at the intrusion. “Ontari!” 

*****  
Ontari, having shut the door, is already at her side and pulling Clarke’s hand to her lips. “Don’t be mad at your receptionist boy, I sneaked past him when he left the desk.” Clarke is mad, Murphy shouldn’t be leaving the desk unattended, not even on a Sunday. “Clarke, you’ve said no to dinner twice so you leave me no choice, I’m here to beg you to come to lunch with me.” Ontari drops to one knee. “I’m begging Clarke!” “I’m very flattered Ontari, but I’m working and I’m..” She doesn’t get the chance to finish her reply before Ontari, standing over her now, kisses her hard, forcing her tongue into Clarke’s mouth and pushing Clarke’s head back into the chair. Ontari’s hands capture Clarke’s as she tries to stand and she leans over, pinning Clarke to the chair with her body. “Oh, I like it Clarke, …….. you’re fighting and I like a girl with a bit of spirit for me to break.” Clarke’s trying to kick but can’t get leverage, her hands are pinned to the arms of her chair and her head is being forced back by Ontari pushing her mouth onto hers. “Get off, aarghh!” Clarke manages to get a few words out but Ontari’s mouth covers hers again, kissing and biting her lips. 

*****  
Clarke doesn’t see her office door open, “I was passing and Murphy said…..Clarke!” Ontari’s weight is suddenly removed and Clarke sees Lexa face to face with a livid Ontari. Ontari throws a punch at Lexa’s face. Lexa leans away from it easily and responds with a crisp right jab to Ontari’s gut and a second to Ontari’s cheek. Ontari stumbles back grabbing for her jacket pocket. Lexa, not sure what Ontari will retrieve from that pocket, lands a full-strength left-uppercut to her jaw, that lifts Ontari off her feet and leaves her crumpled and unconscious on the floor. Lexa shakes her left hand, she hopes it is just bruised and with her right removes the flick knife from Ontari’s pocket and pats her down for other weapons. She pockets the small gun she finds in an inside pocket of Ontari’s well cut jacket. Lexa then turns to Clarke, “are you ok?” Clarke can’t speak, she feels choked and breathless even though she knows she is hyperventilating. “Breathe Clarke, match your breaths to mine." Clarke leans into Lexa and tries to breathe with her, Lexa’s hand rubs gentle soothing circles on her back. After a minute or two Clarke can say “I’m OK. Thank-you Lexa.” Lexa stands “I’m going get Murphy up here and ring for the police. Okay?” “Get Murphy please, I don’t think there’s much point in the police do you?” Lexa’s torn, Ontari should be charged but she can see the difficulties and anticipate the defence lawyer’s clever insinuations that it’s somehow all a lover’s tiff that got a bit out of hand. She groans, picks up the phone and calls Murphy. She’s tempted to give the unconscious Ontari a kick but is prevented by Clarke leaning over the unconscious woman and going through her pockets. “This is unethical I know, but at the moment she owes me big time on ethics!” Clarke finds and removes a small capped test tube, then she opens Ontari’s wallet, shuffling through money, visiting cards and bits of paper. She returns the wallet to Ontari’s inside pocket and pulls out a diary from her hip pocket. Flicking through it she finds an address and telephone number for the elusive Lorelei Tsing, she notes it down before replacing the diary. Clarke steps back as Ontari groans and starts to move, slowly massaging her jaw and bracing herself against the wall. There’s a knock and Murphy puts his head around the door. “Miss Griffin?” “I’ll talk to you later Murphy about leaving the front desk unattended but first get a taxi for Miss Queen and see her off the premises. She is never to be allowed into these offices again. Do I make myself clear?” Murphy nods and together with Lexa he lifts Ontari to her feet and takes her down the corridor to the elevator. Lexa returns to Clarke’s office, as Murphy takes Ontari down in the elevator. 

She finds Clarke sitting behind her desk sniffing cautiously at the contents of the tiny test tube she removed from Ontari’s pocket, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “Any idea what it is?” “Not for certain. I have my suspicions but I’ll get my mom to run an analysis.” At Lexa’s questioning expression Clarke caps the test tube and says, “chloral hydrate. I know it’s supposed to smell, I just don’t know what it’s supposed to smell of.” Lexa immediately regrets she didn’t give Ontari the kicking she so clearly deserved. Clarke is looking pale and drawn and Lexa, conscious that Clarke has just been subject to an unwanted sexual advance, asks “Is it okay for me to hold you Clarke?” “Yes please and I’m hoping you came to take me to lunch. I’m feeling a bit wobbly and food will do me good.” Lexa moves to take Clarke in her arms and Clarke sinks into the strength offered. “I don’t want to think what would have happened if you hadn’t arrived Lexa. Or if I’d accepted her invitation to lunch, with chloral hydrate on the menu.” Lexa pulls Clarke a little closer and Clarke nestles into her shoulder. A few minutes later Clarke raises her head and accepts Lexa’s gentle kisses. After a few minutes they both stand and holding hands leave the office. At the front desk is an apologetic Murphy. “It was just for a moment Miss Griffin, I was desperate for a ….” “Then you call Connor to cover for you. You know this desk is never left unattended for good reason!" “I’m so sorry Miss Griffin.” Murphy hangs his head, he tells himself he will do better, he likes this job at the Echo and the people who work here, he wants to stay.

Lexa takes Clarke to a small steak house near the beach. It’s quiet on a Sunday in February and so they can sit, eat and chat in relaxed comfort. Clarke’s a bit subdued and so it’s Lexa who talks; about her schooling in England at a very posh girls’ school, where she learnt to dance, played tennis, discovered she loved women and studied hard with the expectation that she would go to Newnham College Cambridge and read Classics. Before she got to Newnham the world went to war and Lexa couldn’t just be a student anymore, she wanted to help the war effort. So, in 1916 she joined the royal ambulance corps. She could drive and the corps was desperate for drivers prepared to drive on the front lines. She doesn’t tell Clarke about the horror of it all today; the noise, blood, bodies, stench and screams, but she talks about the amazing people she met like Nyko and Roma and the other ambulance drivers, many of them women. Clarke slowly recovers her poise and relaxes as Lexa talks and at the end of the meal she’s recovered her spirits enough to tell Lexa off for smoking her “dangerous and horrible cigarettes” and Lexa’s hastily crushing the just lit Gauloise out and promising to keep trying to give them up. They take a short walk on the beach and it’s Clarke who starts to talk about Dante Wallace and the House of Queen. It’s good to talk things through with Clarke, they have different approaches, see things from different perspectives but their differences contribute to each other’s understanding of the core problem.

They return to Clarke’s cottage and make love. Sharing their bodies’ secrets and desires, both in tender exploration and the raw hunger of passion. At 1800 hours the telephone rings. “I’ve got to get that.” “I know.” Lexa watches Clarke as she throws on a robe and hurries away from her bed to answer the telephone. She can just hear Clarke’s voice as she answers, then Clarke calls “Lexa, it’s Anya, she’s awake!” Lexa pulls on her underclothes and shirt, as she hurries downstairs. On her arrival in the long front room Lexa is pulled by Clarke onto her lap, as she speaks to her mother and relays the news to Lexa. “Raven was there and Lincoln and O, good... What’s that about infection? Oh, her temperature is high and hmmmm. Okay, okay, you’re trying the honey and preparing the peni… what? The mould? Oh it’s called ‘Penicilling’. Okay, see you soon mom.” Clarke puts the receiver down and puts her arms around Lexa’s waist. “Did you get all that?” “I think so, she’s awake but has a high temperature and that means infection. Your mother is using the honey dressing but has the mould ready as well.” “We’d better get down there, mom says Raven needs help, she hasn’t slept at all and is now fretting over the infection and Lincoln needs to leave in about an hour to meet a potential sponsor for his gym.” 

They take both their cars as Clarke will go to the Echo’s offices after visiting at the hospital and after spending a few hours with Anya and Raven, Lexa will need to go home to prepare for tomorrow. Their talking through the case earlier highlighted the urgency of speaking to Dante Wallace. So, Lexa’s going to spend Monday tailing him, in the hope that she can either; exploit an opportunity to talk to him privately, or start to get some idea of his daily routine and when such an opportunity could present itself.


	17. Dante's Inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's observation of Dante does not go as planned.  
> Anya fights a dangerous infection.  
> Raven faints!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER - description of debriding a badly infected wound.

Chapter 17 

Monday 10th February Zuma Beach Malibu LA 0530 hours

The sky is pitch black, heavy clouds obscuring any moon or the approach of dawn and rain slashes down onto the highway. A thick brown slurry sluices across the road and Lexa has to fight the steering wheel to keep her car on the road and out of the path of the few vehicles that are travelling east that early in the morning. Breathing a sigh of relief when car wheels grip the tarmac solidly again she peers out, past the labouring windscreen wipers, trying see the nameplates of each house as they’re briefly illuminated by the Citroen’s powerful headlights. The house she’s looking for has to be close, she’s just passed Malibu Pottery and according to the directions it’s only half a mile past the factory. There it is, the big iron gates are open and the nearest supporting pillar has the fancy nameplate attached to it; ‘Mount Weather Estate’. The house itself, what can be seen, is set back about fifty yards and looms large and white against the dark sky. Lexa slows down a little but can’t see much more, so she drives for another mile before turning her car around on a wide packed-dirt side road and heads back driving slowly and steadily. Passing the gates for a second time, lightning cracks and for a few seconds the house and drive are bathed in bright white light. Lexa blinks in surprise as immediately in front of the house are three big black Packard cars, parked but with their engines running. What the…..?

A hundred yards or so past the house Lexa pulls off the main road and onto a side road signposted to Malibu Pier. About fifty yards along that road, she kills her headlights and pulls onto the verge, carefully parking behind a scrappy stand of Monterey pines. She switches the engine off and sits for a few minutes, wondering what the hell is going on at Mount Weather. She expected to see a car in the drive, a blue Cadillac Phaeton is registered to Dante and about now his chauffeur should be up and about, getting ready to take Dante to his office at Top Flight. Dante, according to Lucy Manilla, is a workaholic and is usually to be found at his desk for 0730 hours. Lexa’s plan was to start her tailing of Dante at the beginning of his day. But three Packards with their engines running, is not what she expects. Dante lives alone, with just a couple of live-in staff; someone is paying him an early morning visit, and in force!

She turns, awkwardly twisting in the small car and reaches onto the back seat to grab; a dark sweater, her old leather flying jacket and a black woollen cap. Shrugging out of her suit jacket and vest she pulls on the sweater, holsters her semi-automatic and belts and buttons up the jacket. Pulling on the cap Lexa tucks her braided hair into the raised collar of her jacket and as a final precaution smears some camouflage paint onto her face. Then she’s ready and binoculars in hand, leaves the car and walks into the storm. Keeping to scrub where she can and walking in a low crouch, she approaches the house. Pines and shrubs dot the highway and as the rain pounds down through the darkness she takes shelter behind one of the largest trees and focuses her binoculars on the nearest Packard. The red of the driver’s cigarette pulses as he takes a drag, she can’t see anyone else in the car. The two other cars are also running, fumes drift from their exhausts but there’s no tell-tale red glow of their driver’s cigarettes. None of the cars has a licence plate visible. Keeping low she walks west, away from the gateway and out of the line of sight of anyone in the cars; then she crosses the road and into the cover of some untidy bushes. The estate is surrounded by a stone wall, more for decoration than security and Lexa easily pulls herself up, onto and over it and drops into a bed of some-kind of evergreen shrub. She crouches down and her boots sink into coarse leaf litter and earth; she stills, waiting to see if anyone’s spotted her. The south-facing front of the house is dark, no sign of movement or occupation. Just the three big cars, engines ticking over, sitting outside the big front door. No-one raises an alarm and she quietly walks towards the west side of the house, where a four-car garage, closed up and silent, acts as a massive privacy barrier, shutting the back of the house off from the public road. The rain continues to hammer down and there’s a distant rumble of thunder, but Lexa can see a feeble dawn light approaching from the east. She needs to move fast or she’ll lose the cover of darkness. 

As she rounds the garage’s wall the back of the house comes into view and in stark contrast to the front of the house, it is very well lit. Electric light spills into the darkness from a number of rooms on the ground and upper floors. Keeping away from the light Lexa plunges into a very wet shrubbery and uses her binoculars to look into the nearest room, a large kitchen. There two people sit, stiff and silent, at a big kitchen table. At one end of the table is the remains of breakfast for two; dirty plates, cups and half eaten toast. At the other end is a butler’s tray, holding a silver coffee set, an unused cup and saucer and a folded newspaper. The man is wearing a chauffeur’s uniform, the woman next to him a cook’s apron and cap, their eyes are fixed on a point just to the left of the window Lexa is looking through. A figure, moves in-front of that window, very tall in a dark overcoat and hat, and Lexa’s view is blocked for a few seconds. When she can see into the kitchen again, the pair of servants are being pushed by two men, both armed with pistols, into a small windowless larder. After locking the larder door, the two intruders turn away and Lexa can see that they are masked, with simple bandanas, one red, one black, covering the lower half of their faces. The taller of the two, he really is very tall, leaves the kitchen, walking through a swing door into the interior of the house, the other, still wearing his black bandana, sits at the kitchen table and takes the newspaper off the silver tray. Lexa hopes that the two captives will be safe for now, if they were going to be killed in cold blood it would probably have happened already. Lexa moves further around the back of the house; she needs to find Dante Wallace. 

The back of the house faces north and from where Lexa crouches it looks like one enormous glasshouse or conservatory. Light pours from hundreds of small panes of glass. Through her binoculars she can see that the whole ground floor back wall is a series of French doors. In the spring and summer times it must be a wonderful sunny room, with people able to just walk out into the gardens. At the moment all this glass is allowing light to flood from the well-lit rooms into the gardens and Lexa searches for shadows or cover that will allow her to get closer to the house. 

The gardens on this side of the house are formal and Italianate, with structured beds, stone paths, yards of pointless balustrades and dozens of statues and urns on elaborate plinths. The central feature is a huge triple tiered stone fountain that doubles as part of a fancy swimming pool. It’s the fountain that’s going to allow her to get that bit closer to the house without being seen. It only takes a minute or so before she’s kneeling behind a naked stone goddess and focusing her binoculars on the people in the big glass room. 

There’s a grey-haired man, sitting in a captain’s chair at a big green topped desk, his back to the garden. This is presumably Dante? Immediately in-front of the desk and talking to Dante is Cage Wallace. Lexa recognises Cage from the Echo’s picture of his supposed marriage to Lorelei Tsing. Cage is agitated, gesturing at himself and his father and at the other two people in the room; he stops speaking and leans both hands on Dante’s desk, his head drops onto his chest, he appears exhausted. The two people Cage had pointed at stand a few yards behind him, on either side of a large console table; both are tall, wear dark overcoats, trilby hats and bandana masks. They are armed, the one on Cage’s right cradles a Tommy gun, the other grips a snub-nosed revolver, both guns are pointed at Dante. Cage raises his head and starts to speak again. 

One of the useful skills Lexa picked up when she was an ambulance driver in the war, is lip reading. The battlefields were places of deafening, concussive noise; even when shells were not falling, many soldiers were unable to hear what was said to them, as temporary deafness was the norm. Focusing her binoculars on his lips Lexa can read some of what Cage is saying to his father. “You need to sign these….” Cage turns and walks away from the desk, picks up some papers from the console table and places them in-front of his father. He speaks again. “Kill me …I’m sorry dad…. gains for all of us….good sense …… partnership.” Cage stops speaking and looks to the two, armed men. Lexa switches her attention to these men, as Dante flicks through the papers Cage has given him. The Tommy gun holder looks like a standard mob goon, big shoulders stretch a soaked through overcoat, his hands are massive and gloved and his clothes almost fit. By contrast the second man, although dressed in a similar style, is subtly different. For a start his clothes fit perfectly, then his overcoat has shrugged off the rain and his shoes are very expensive brogues. He is not a standard mob goon. Who, Lexa wonders, is he? It can’t be Ricci can it? She’s not seen him for years but he’s about the right height, maybe a little thinner in build than she remembers Ricci to be. She can’t see his eye colour and his hat is pulled so low she can’t see his hair either, she mentally goes through Ricci’s physical description. Ah, Ricci is right-handed and missing the ring finger on his dominant hand; Lexa focuses on the gloved hand holding the revolver; it’s no good she can’t see the whole of his hand, the chamber and grip of the revolver are in the way. Dante swings in his chair and pulls at more of the papers Cage has put in-front of him. 

There’s a thump to her right and Lexa, rising into a low crouch, turns to see what is happening. The top half of the kitchen door has swung open and bangs against the outside wall. The black bandanaed intruder leans out to light a cigarette; impatiently he pulls his bandana down and in the bright yellow light from the kitchen Lexa gets a clear look at his face. She doesn’t recognise him, but takes a moment to imprint his appearance upon her memory. Medium height, a dark pencil moustache, over narrow lips, large straight nose, his teeth are large and yellowed with tobacco, the top right canine is missing; eyes are very dark and eye brows thick, almost a monobrow. 

Automatic gunfire cracks from the house and Lexa drops flat to the ground. The fountain takes a few hits from the rattling Tommy gun and Lexa scrambles for cover behind a more substantial statue. Silence; she waits for a few seconds before carefully looking up and over the rim of the fountain’s basin. The French doors immediately behind Dante’s desk are shattered, the captain’s chair is overturned and Dante, his chest red with blood, has fallen into the shattered glass. He lies absolutely still. The room is empty of people and Dante’s desk’s bare of papers. Lexa hears shouts and then, as the rain and wind slackens off a little, running feet and breaking glass. She smells smoke, looking up she can see it billowing out of some upper floor windows. A car engine roars and wheels spin in gravel. Infront of her the door to Dante’s office opens and the hugely tall man in the red bandana, strides into the room. Carefully and deliberately, he lights the first of two Molotov cocktails. He throws it with force and the glass shatters against Dante’s desk, the flaming petrol spills onto the carpet by Dante; the tall man watches and as Dante’s clothes start to burn he lights and lobs the second bottle in-front of the already burning body. He then turns and leaves the room. Seconds later a second car engine roars and fades. Lexa sprints to Dante, could he still be alive? Despite the searing heat she rolls him onto the wet ground and puts out what flames she can. Feeling for a pulse she’s almost relieved to find him dead, who would want to live through such terrible wounds? A third engine roars and Lexa realises; she is probably alone in the house. Alone except for the two staff locked in the kitchen larder! She runs to the open back door, the room is not yet alight but it is filling with thick smoke, drawn in by the open door’s draught. Using her sodden woollen hat as a make-do smoke mask she feels her way to the larder door, unfortunately the key is on longer in the lock and she throws herself at the door to break it open. The door splinters and she yanks it open; through stinging, watering eyes she can make out the two prisoners, slumped unconscious on the floor. The cook is nearest and Lexa grasps both her hands and drags her, through the by now smoke-filled kitchen and out into the garden. She returns for the chauffeur; the smoke is thickening and he’s so much heavier; at one point she loses her way and backs into the big solid table, she stops to reorientate herself before hauling him around the obstacle and out of the back door. Once he’s safe Lexa collapses onto her hands and knees and coughs and wheezes and coughs again. She staggers to her feet and starts to move away from the house, she can’t be found here or have it known she was here, it’s too dangerous. Looking over her shoulder she can see the cook start to regain consciousness; eyes flutter open and hands grab at the wet foliage above her. The house is now completely alight and burning like a huge funeral pyre honouring its’ dead owner. The cook’s now looking at Lexa her face a mask of confusion and fear, but then her attention is taken by the chauffeur’s coughing and the sound of approaching fire-truck bells. Lexa keeps walking away from the house and keeping to the shadows as best she can, makes her way to her car. 

Monday 10th February The Coppice Laverne Terrace 0730 hours

Wet and shivering Lexa puts the telephone receiver down and allows Roma to guide her to the big bathroom and a hot bath. She’s done everything she can do, at this point. She’s told Clarke the bare bones of the matter. That is; there was a fire at Mount Weather this morning and Dante is dead. Clarke’s sent Jasper to Mount Weather to cover the fire’s aftermath and she will check on Anya and Raven at the infirmary later this morning. In Lexa’s telephone call to Indra, she talked of inconsequential things, but used a previously agreed code word to ask Indra for a private meeting away from Hollywood PD. Indra will arrive this evening for ‘dinner’ after her shift ends. 

Soaking in the tub Lexa goes over the extraordinary events she witnessed. She is still confused as to what exactly happened. Dante is dead, but who killed him and why and what was Cage doing there with papers to sign? Was Marco Ricci one of the gunmen? Why set the house on fire, what was the point of all that destruction? A while later, after drying herself and dressing in warm casual clothes she is no further forward in solving the mystery. 

An hour later Clarke telephones from the infirmary, Anya has lost consciousness again, the infection is winning and they are going to try the experimental bread mould. Lexa pulls on her trench coat and scarf and heads out to drive to the infirmary, Niko travels with her; Abby wants to discuss with him, how the new treatment is to be applied and in what dosage.

Monday 10th February St Vincent’s Infirmary LA 1100 hours

The small room feels crowded and muggy. The humidity of the day, even though it has stopped raining, seems to have permeated the building and everything feels clammy and damp. Listening to Anya’s laboured breathing is torture and Lexa feels helpless as she and Raven sit quietly by her bed. Abby and an uncomfortable looking Niko walk into the room. Abby asks Raven and Lexa if they want to leave whilst Anya is treated, she warns them that it will be an unpleasant experience. Both Lexa and Raven say they will stay and Abby moves to Anya’s side. Niko holds a small porcelain bowl as Abby removes the blanket cage and starts to uncover the wound. Lexa’s ready to catch Raven as she falls into a faint, gently guiding her to a chair and supporting her head. The smell of Anya’s wound is putrid and although Lexa has smelt worse on the battlefield Raven clearly has not, it’s enough to make most people feel faint and nauseous. Abby’s look to Lexa is of wordless thanks, as she with gentle and precise movements of her scalpel, debrides the wound. The dead tissue and pus she scrapes into a metal bowl. When the healthy tissue is exposed and the wound is as clean as possible Abby nods to Niko who hands her the small porcelain bowl and Abby stirs the thick paste within. Then, using clean spatulas, she gently smooths the paste on and around the raw looking wound. There’s a brief consultation with Niko about whether the wound should be re-bandaged or left open to the air, before Abby places a single piece of thin gauze over the paste and replaces the blanket cage. The nurse is instructed to try and make sure the gauze and paste are not disturbed and Abby and Niko leave the room. 

Raven starts to come round. “God, my girl’s got the worst BO on the planet!” The joke is feeble but it means Raven’s back to her snarky self. “Any idea how long this mould shit takes?” Shaking her head Lexa suggests Raven goes to find Abby and while she does that, how about taking a walk, getting a drink and food. “Clarke’s left a change of clothes for you in Abby’s office, together with a flask of coffee and some sandwiches.” Raven grimaces and with as serious a face as she can manage, threatens both Lexa and the nurse with disembowelment if they sexually interfere with her irresistible girlfriend! “I think we can control ourselves Raven, as you said the BO is bad!” As Raven leaves the room Lexa hears her whisper to someone outside. Then Clarke slips in and speaks briefly to the nurse, who leaves. “We just need to make sure she doesn’t dislodge the paste and report to my mom if she wakes or becomes too restless.” Lexa holds out her arms and Clarke walks into the embrace and folds herself into Lexa’s lap. “You okay?” Lexa shakes her head and looks at Anya, “When will we know if it’s working?” “Mom thinks a few hours should be enough to show some improvement.” Lexa’s arms tighten around her and they both settle in for the long wait. 

About an hour later Raven, in fresh clothes, returns carrying coffees and a copy each of the Echo and the LA Times. “Any change?” “I’m not sure, she may be breathing a bit easier.” The nurse arrives, takes Anya’s temperature, notes it on her chart and leaves. Clarke walks to the end of the bed and reads the chart. “Her temperature has dropped very slightly. I don’t know if it’s enough to be significant but at least it’s a step in the right direction.” “You guys take a break; I’ll watch her for a while.” Lexa and Clarke take the newspapers Raven hands them and walk out of the infirmary and into a lovely afternoon. They are alone in the Infirmary garden as they sit on Lexa’s coat on a fairly dry bench, drink their coffee and scan the papers. Clarke’s pleased that Jasper managed to telephone in his first short article on the fire at Mount Weather in time for the midday edition; the LA Times hasn’t anything on the fire yet. “When are you meeting with Indra?” “Tonight.” “Do you want me there?” “Yes, but will you be ok with everything being off the record? and I’m not sure how Indra will react to you being present. She can be very abrasive.” Clarke looks pensive for a moment, “would she have been ok with my dad being there on those terms?” “I think so, yes. She had a good working relationship with Jake, I’m just worried she doesn’t really know you yet.” “That’s fair, I’m new to her. I’ll leave if she wants me to, but I’m ok with it being off the record. From the little you’ve told me I’m starting to think that Maria Ocardi’s death is just the tip of a very dirty iceberg.” Lexa nods and they finish their coffees in silence before walking back to Anya’s room. 

There they find Abby and a tensely excited Raven. “Her temperature is still going down, Abby’s pleased!” Abby hugs Raven. “Raven, I need to change the dressing, you’d best wait outside, fainting again is not a good idea.” Raven rather grumpily agrees, as long as Clarke goes with her for company. 

Monday 10th February The Coppice, Laverne Terrace 2000 hours

Lexa puts down the telephone receiver and walks into the large sitting room. “That was Abby, Anya’s still improving. Her temperature is normal, she’s awake and coherent. Raven is now unconscious and they’re just letting her sleep.” The news brings smiles from everyone in the room. “Has everyone had enough to eat and got something to drink?” All nod. “Okay it’s time to get down to business.”

It took some time to get Indra to accept Clarke as part of the ‘anti-corruption’ group. It was Indra who set it up four years ago, in response to the obvious and growing corruption throughout LA policing. Not even her own division is free of the taint, hence the group is very select and meets in secret. At first she’d just point blank refused to open the meeting if Clarke was there, but Lexa reminds Indra of the current arrangement between Clarke and Anya, an arrangement that is working well. Then Clarke speaks up. “Indra I know that I’ve just taken over as the editor of the Echo, but I am familiar with working with the police. In Chicago I worked with Chicago PD on various mob and corruption prosecutions; if you want to check up on this Captain Tristan Bowman of Chicago PD can vouch for me, I have his direct line number here if you want. I’m not new to this kind of work Indra, I’m not new to things being off the record, I’m just new to you.”

Indra takes on board the points both Lexa and Clarke make and agrees to continue. The start of business is Lexa narrating in full what she saw at Mount Weather that morning.


	18. Off the case and on the case.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Clexa before Lexa is taken 'off' the case by Marion.  
> Meanwhile - Lexa is on the case and working to link the mob and House of Queen.  
> Anya laughs!  
> Clexa learn to tango.

Chapter 18 

Tuesday 11th February The Coppice, Laverne Terrace 0700 hours

Lexa’s kiss is gentle but deep and Clarke savours the feeling of her lover’s skin meeting hers as Lexa lowers herself to rest on Clarke. “Keep this up and we won’t be going anywhere for some time.” “Don’t want to leave this bed…..ever!” Lexa rubs her face into Clarke’s neck and then down to her breasts, lips tease a nipple. A loud knock on the bedroom door, “Rise and shine, you lucky people, it’s seven o’clock!” With a quick kiss Lexa pulls away and Clarke is treated to the sight of Lexa naked, long hair curling down her back, stretching and searching the bedroom, a little half-heartedly, for her clothes. Clarke smiles at the sight and Lexa catches her looking. “Like what you see?” “Get back in this bed and I’ll show you just how much I like it.” 

An hour or so later they’ve had a light breakfast and are on their way out. Clarke to the Echo and Lexa to her office and then on to see Marion Davies at the Castle. 

Last night’s meeting had been an exercise in communal frustration. That Malibu PD is corrupt from the top down is common knowledge. The current Commissioner Carl Emerson was appointed, by Lucio Peroni the mayor of Malibu and a well-known mobster, three years ago. Emerson has used this time to utterly destroy the spirit and operational effectiveness of his department. There’s no chance of a real investigation into Dante’s death by Malibu and Hollywood PD hasn’t got jurisdiction to conduct their own. It would be dangerous for Lexa to try and tell what she saw to Malibu, she’d probably be dead within hours. If Dante’s death is at the heart of the Maria Ocardi murder, Malibu PD is about to bury that line of enquiry. 

That isn’t the only line of enquiry that’s going to be stymied, at least for a while. Dante’s business interests will be effectively frozen while the executors of his will; collect in, pay tax on and distribute to beneficiaries, his extensive private and business property. Malibu PD may be able to get access to information on his property and papers but they won’t share anything with Hollywood. So, the contents of his will be about all they’ll ever get and probably the Echo will get that information first, as part of their standard death notice and obituary process. Meanwhile the papers Dante did, or did not, sign will be somewhere in the mess or not! Who knows?

Bottom line: Hollywood PD and Lexa have to stay away from Dante’s death. Indra and it is hoped soon Anya, will concentrate on the ongoing gang war in LA and see if dealing with that brings any information to light about who hired Ludo to kill Maria and who ordered Ludo killed. Lemon Drops McGraw has confessed to killing Ludo. He didn’t have much choice as the bullet dug out of his chest is a ballistics match to Ludo’s gun, but he refuses to identify, any of the others involved or who ordered the hit. That case is to be rolled into the operation working on the gang war. 

For Lexa and Clarke there’s still the blackmail angle and a link to the House of Queen to pursue. Lorelei Tsing and her connection to Cage Wallace is worth following up, someone needs to find and interview Fox Talbot and Lexa needs to look through mug shots to try and identify the man she saw unmasked at Mount Weather. It is planned that on Wednesday she’ll attend Hollywood PD and report being mugged. Ryder or Penn, both present at last night’s meeting, will arrange that she will try and identify the ‘mugger’ using Hollywood’s extensive mug shot files.

Clarke will keep Jasper on the Mount Weather story but he won’t be ‘seen’ to do any obvious digging. Clarke will work with Harper and the Echo’s newest hire Tris on Dante’s obituary and she’ll approach Cage for an interview about his father’s ‘life and work’. She’ll also have the inside track on the gangland operation, Indra will give Jasper an interview on Thursday with some lines of inquiry she and Clarke will agree on at a meeting on Wednesday.

Tuesday 11th February The Castle 0900 hours

Lexa’s left looking at the tapestries again, as Boston disappears into the heart of the Castle to discover if Miss Davies “is in” to Miss Woods. Fifteen minutes later Cedric appears, cheerful and chatty, to take her to Marion’s private dressing room. He leaves the two women alone. The dressing room is small and intimate, by the Castle’s standards anyway, and Marion, her hair down and wearing a delicate negligee and robe, sits before a large dressing table and sips green tea.

Marion wants a report on the investigation to date and Lexa sets out the reasoning and evidence behind Ludo, being identified as Maria’s killer. Marion’s shrewd eyes gleam, “there seems little doubt this killer struck the blows Miss Woods, but at who’s order?” 

“We’ve no evidence linking anyone specific to an order to kill Maria and it’s unlikely that any will ever be found. We know at whose party the pictures Maria blackmailed Freddie with were taken and there’s a mob link there. She’s likely dead because she was seen as an unsafe connection between an act of blackmail and a mobster.”

“Hmm the mob and no actual evidence is not unusual, but do you know who ordered it or at least suspect someone?

“We have our strong suspicions, yes. I hesitate to tell you more as such knowledge could be dangerous to possess.” Lexa can see Marion considering what this means and for a few minutes there is silence. Then Marion turns to Lexa, “Miss Woods I want from you a ‘final’ written report, of the sort that if leaked to interested parties would convince them that you have not revealed anything dangerous to me. I also want you to render your account to Cedric. It will be paid, including a modest completion bonus. Our contract will to all intents and purposes end.” Marion then opens one of the drawers in her dressing table, removes a bulky envelope and hands it to Lexa. “Here’s $10,000,” Lexa only just manages to keep her face straight as Marion hands her a fortune. “I can hear what you’re not saying. I too have suspicions about who was trying to pressurise Dante and Top Flight Studios through blackmail and financial chicanery. I liked Dante Miss Woods, I don’t like his son or his son’s friends. There will be no further open contact between us, if I want us to meet I will ring your office as ‘Miss Pola Blanco’ and for the next few weeks I think it is important that you appear to work on anything but Maria, Ludo or Dante’s deaths. I will inform Jaha you are ‘off’ the case. But in reality I want you to, very discreetly, continue to look into this matter, including Dante’s death. Now put that money away before I call Cedric back, he must know nothing.” 

Lexa nods, tucking the envelope inside her overcoat and rises ready to leave. Marion rings a bell and Cedric returns. Marion’s tone is slightly frosty as she turns to Lexa. “Thank-you Miss Woods, I can see why you consider this matter closed. Please render your account to Cedric. Good Morning.” Lexa bows and leaves guided by Cedric through the huge buildings’ maze of corridors. “You got the cold shoulder, she’s not happy!” Lexa wants to keep him on side, so she answers his impertinent question. “When you’re dealing with murder no-one’s going to be happy with a solution that just leads to another dead body.” She shrugs and accepts his friendly farewells as she leaves the Castle.

Wednesday 12th February Hollywood PD 1100 hours

Lexa’s been looking through books of mug shots for two hours and so far no luck. Her fictitious mugging has been reported and her statement taken by Penn and then he has much better things to do than sit with her as she looks through book after book of pictures. 

The door opens and she looks up, frowning when Police Commissioner Thelonious Jaha strides into the room. “Woods, I’m surprised to see you here, hasn’t Miss Davies ended your contract looking into the Ocardi murder?” Lexa stands to face him. “I’m here as a victim of a mugging Jaha, looking through mugshots.” She gestures to the books on the table.  
“Oh.” He seems at a loss with this unexpected turn of events. “Who’s the investigating officer?” “Penn.” Lexa’s giving the man nothing and if he can’t greet her courteously she’ll lay off the good manners herself. He turns and leaves abruptly. Lexa’s history with Jaha makes it difficult for her to assess him objectively, he sacked her when the Mayor asked him to, but she knows he didn’t want to and had to be pushed to do it. Indra summed it up nicely, “he’s window dressing and weak with it.” Lexa turns back to the mug shots. It’s not until the eighth book that she finds his picture and she goes to get Penn so he can look up the police file on Mugshot T24/15398/IT.  
Caesar Greco, age 39, married 3 children, spouse Marianna Greco, affiliations – none known. Record:- 1924 Racketeering (prostitution). 

Lexa hisses in frustration, so does Penn. “His record’s been tampered with.” Lexa turns to the seriously pissed off Penn. “I know him from when I worked in Malibu. He was an enforcer for the Peroni family. He has a record much longer than that! I left Malibu in 1927, he’d been sent down at least three times for aggravated assault before Emerson started to destroy the department.” Lexa and Penn exchange pained looks. This means corruption in both Malibu and Hollywood PDs. “Okay, the official line is I can’t pick out anyone for the mugging, the case stays open but no leads. By the way Jaha knows I’m here and that you’re the investigating officer for my ‘mugging’, so I’ll stay a while to look through the rest of the books and you may want to prepare a response to his casual enquiry.” Penn nods his agreement and leaves. Lexa opens the remaining books of mugshots and waits another thirty minutes before leaving the station and making her way to St Vincent’s Infirmary.

Wednesday 12th February St Vincent’s Infirmary 1500 hours 

For someone who’d been close to death on Monday Anya looks remarkably well. Her colour is good and she’s eating a substantial meal; not, Lexa notes, hospital food but a thick Mexican chile verde with soft tortillas. Anya looks up when Lexa slips into her room. “This mould stuff is amazing Lexa, I thought my fight was over, but now, I have pain and a hole in my ribs but …” Anya shrugs and Lexa grasps her arm and carefully embraces her friend; “it makes a difference to have someone to live for.” Oh; Lexa looks into Anya’s eyes, her friend is as ever; fierce, bold, confident and there’s something else, something she’s never seen before, peace. So, of course Lexa teases her; “you’ve found a girl who can cook?” “Cooking is only one of her talents!” Anya’s grin is huge, Lexa’s almost speechless with joy for Anya and of course Raven Reyes; clearly not just a mechanic! Suddenly they’re laughing, both of them, Anya a little carefully because of her ribs, but Lexa is letting go, so happy that her friend has found her person in life. “You were so right to propose!” Anya is blushing now and this deepens as the door opens and Raven walks in carrying a small duffle. “Laughing, she shouldn’t be laughing! It’s bad for her!” Lexa and Anya calm down and the talk becomes more serious when Anya explains how her wound will leave her with a permanent disability. The hole in her ribcage, about 4 inches square, is permanent. The bullet shattered one of her ribs, then the infection attacked those immediately adjacent. Now Anya will be vulnerable in a fight or brawl to a well-placed punch or kick. Hollywood PD are saying they will give her a medical pension, enough to live on (modestly) and a small cash payment that she could invest in a business or property; that is if she wants to retire from the force. All three chat through the possibilities, but fortunately no decision needs to be made just yet. 

When Raven has to go back to her garage, Lexa steps outside for a few minutes so they can have privacy to say their farewells. On her return she finds Anya keen to talk about the case. Lexa fills her in on Dante’s death, the meeting at the Coppice, Marion Davies’ ‘ending’ of the contract with Lexa and this morning’s session with the mugshots. Anya recognises the name of Caesar Greco. “He was with the Peroni family in Malibu for years as an enforcer, mainly on the prostitution side of the business. But then the Peroni family split their business between the sons and as you know Guido went to New York in 1928 to take over family interests there; I thought Greco went with him.” 

Lexa leans on her elbows, stomach churning, she asks. “Is Guido back in town?” Anya’s reply is confident; “no way, his brother Lucio has Malibu firmly in hand. There’s no room for him there and as we know LA is already hosting a turf war between Ricci and Santoro. The Chinese and Irish gangs are stable and Martinez is very strong in south LA. There’s just nowhere for Guido to come back to here. Greco’s come back for some other reason, maybe his family didn’t take to New York, Marianna was born and raised here. He wouldn’t be the first man to move states to keep his wife happy.” Lexa quietly sighs in relief before saying, “he’d be likely to work with Lucio if he came back without Guido. So maybe the Peroni’s are involved with Dante’s death, it happened on their patch after all.” Both women pause to think this development through. It’s Anya who speaks. “The Peronis have worked with Ricci in the past; before your time I think, but there was a big property scam in Inglewood about ten years ago; Ricci was the frontman and the Peronis bankrolled him, I think.” 

They talk, through the various business angles and personalities involved, until Anya visibly starts to tire and Lexa goes to meet up with Ryder and Penn at Lincoln’s new gym. 

Wednesday 12th February The offices of the Hollywood Echo 1500 hours

Clarke reads through Jasper’s latest piece on Mount Weather and Tris and Harper’s draft obituary on Dante. The article on Mount Weather is good and Clarke dictates a quick note of congratulations to Jasper and lets him know that Indra will see him for an interview tomorrow at Hollywood PD 1100 hours. The obituary is fine, it was written by Jake three years ago and Tris and Harper have updated it with recent events. The next step is how to get that interview with Cage. She asks Monroe to see if Harper is available. Harper, vibrant in a leopard-skin print three quarters length day dress, is with Clarke in a few minutes. “How is it working out with Tris?” “Very well, she’s a quick learner, I’ve sent her to shadow Miss Mae West for a day. Miss West was quite taken with Tris when we interviewed her yesterday. It was her idea Tris shadow her and I was very happy to agree, it will be invaluable experience for her and I know you want more interviews with women with careers.” Clarke’s glad she started Tris with Harper, long term she wants more people on her crime team and she thinks Tris has lots of potential. What she’s not sure of is that Jasper’s the right person to guide someone entirely new to journalism, so Tris is starting with Harper. She can move to the crime desk in a few months.

Harper and Clarke exchange ideas on how to approach Cage for an interview about his father’s ‘legacy’ and after a while they bring in Monroe to help. After all, Monroe as Clarke’s PA, will be the person actually trying to set up the interview. Between the three of them they put together some ‘scripts’ that may work with Cage’s PA to get that interview. 

At 1600 Clarke makes her way to Hollywood PD to meet with Indra and talk through with her the material to be given to Jasper tomorrow, so he can write an article in support of Hollywood PD’s efforts to contain the gang war. 

Wednesday 12th February Juan’s Latin Dance Class 1930 hours 

Indra had been surprisingly friendly and cooperative at their meeting earlier and so Clarke was able to get away in time to snatch a bite to eat and change her clothes before her and Lexa’s dance class. They’ve decided to expand their dance repertoire to include the tango and Juan’s the best teacher in LA. They’ve been walking through the basic dance steps for the last thirty minutes and now Juan starts his gramophone and tango music fills the dance hall, he calls the steps as the class dance. 

“Slow, slow, quick, quick stop, cross side, closed promenade, stop. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow and stop. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow. Repeat. Not so stiff in the hips James, sensuous is what I’m looking for. Good, good and again. Cross side. Slow, slow, quick, quick, stop, cross side, closed promenade, stop. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow and stop. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.” 

As the class swing their way around the hall, Juan is moving through the group, correcting stances, straightening backs and occasionally demonstrating a step or sequence. After an hour all are exhausted, except for the indefatigable Juan and Lexa, the latter is practically bouncing with energy and enthusiasm for the dance. Clarke has some suspicion that Lexa’s excess energy is associated with the palpable sexual elements to their dancing; if pressed she’ll admit to feeling more than a little excited herself as she is pulled into Lexa’s arms for the final back corte and leg hook. Phew!

The evening is mild and so they walk to Bonato’s for a light supper. Lexa is practicing dance steps as they walk, occasionally bringing Clarke into her arms to demonstrate how the steps would work for her. Antonio is delighted to see them and Maria comes out of the kitchen, bringing a lovely bottle of Barolo with her, to chat. The café is quiet, so they all eat supper together and drink the lovely wine. Antonio wants to see them dance and so they push some tables to the wall and they demonstrate their new dance skills; Antonio and Maria join in and enjoy it so much they decide to come along to Juan’s tango class next week. 

Lexa drives Clarke home to Long Canyon. She’s invited in and after a brief tango practice, that is light on dance moves and very heavy on sexual tension, Lexa carries Clarke to bed. 

Later they are sleepy, satisfied, naked and warm. Clarke’s hand rests over Lexa’s heart, her head on her shoulder, their legs entangle. “You can keep some clothes and stuff here if you want, it will be easier if you want to stay over regularly.” Lexa, suddenly conscious that Clarke is holding her breath, shifts onto her side to look at the beautiful, brave woman lying next to her. “Thank-you that’s a great idea, you should keep stuff at my place too.” She gently pushes blonde locks aside, to reveal surprisingly wide-awake blue eyes that are at that moment vulnerable in their want. Lexa’s eyes drop to Clarke’s lips. “I know it must all seem a little fast Clarke but it feels so right you and me, just so right!” Clarke’s arms wrap around Lexa and she nuzzles into her neck. “Hmmm I think so too, you and me.” 

Thursday 13th February Long Canyon 0800 hours

Driving into Hollywood isn’t much fun this morning. Traffic is bad and another rain storm overnight means that road conditions coming down the canyon are still difficult, despite the morning sunshine that is making the whole of LA steam in the heat. “How are you going to ‘appear to work on anything but Maria, Ludo or Dante’s deaths, whilst in reality discreetly, continuing to look into them’?” Lexa smiles, “I’m thinking of coming out of ‘retirement’ and entering the LA Spring Tennis Tournament that starts at the end of the month, they always offer me a wild card. That will put me very much in the public eye and away from all activities associated with being a detective. I’ll make sure that I’m seen at local courts training and practicing, as well as taking part.” She pauses for a few seconds. “If I’m lucky I may make it to the quarter-finals, I’m not close to being match ready at the moment and for competitive tennis I’m getting on in years. Meanwhile, Indra’s given me Penn and Ryder who have been supposedly seconded to the ‘revenue’ division and Lincoln is available for freelance security work, so between us we’re going to stake out the House of Queen building. Monroe’s friend, was recently dismissed, apparently staff turnover on the housekeeping side is high, so she can help us identify who’s who if we manage to take some decent pictures. There’s something funny about how that business works and the link between Nia and Dante was real and who knows about the Cage / Lorelei apparent marriage. I want to know what’s going on. Anya and I talked it through last night. The House of Queen building is ridiculously huge for the kind of business that’s run out of it, it’s almost a full block, plus it’s in an excellent location to access central and northern LA. I think it will be worth investigating what actually goes on there, or at least what and who goes in and out.” 

“Have you got a good place to watch from?” 

“Yes, there’s a new build, mixed use building on the next block that’s just being fitted out. Carpenters, plumbers and other trades are crawling all over the first three floors and we can pass as part of that crew and set up surveillance on the fifth floor. We’ll take over what will eventually be a residential unit. The site manager is my cousin Aden, he’ll get us in and we’ll set up round the clock surveillance.”


	19. Game, set and match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a gentle game of tennis the shit really hits the fan and we have a shoot out!

Chapter 19 

Saturday 1st March LA Tennis Club Melrose Ave LA 1500 hours

It’s a beautiful sunny spring afternoon and Clarke is sitting in the player’s box, comfortable in her calf length navy skirt of light wool, a navy chiffon blouse and a cream, with navy stripe, wool sports blazer. Abby is sitting next to her, very excited, as they wait for Lexa’s first match in the tournament to start. There’s been a great deal of publicity about Lexa’s return to tournament tennis, from her ‘semi-retirement’, at the age of thirty, so there’s a good crowd here to see her play. Clarke and her sports editor Miller have been responsible for some of that, with exclusive interviews and recaps of Lexa’s tennis career being highlighted on the Echo’s sports pages. 

Fifty minutes later Clarke is tense and exhausted. She’d never really understood the erotic pull of sport before now. She’s watched her fair share of sport, youthful boyfriends playing football or soccer and both her parents played and followed sport. Her father loved soccer, taking her to matches he played in and in his later years refereed and her mother is still a keen tennis player; so, watching sport is nothing new. But never before has she, squirmed in her seat, crossed her legs, drank cooling drinks or looked studiously at the programme, to avoid actively drooling over a player. But now, she has seen Lexa play tennis and nothing will ever be the same again. 

It started when Lexa walked onto the court in dazzling tennis whites; a short-sleeved aertex shirt, a pleated skirt, white stockings and complex braids holding her long hair off her face. It’s the first time Clarke has seen Lexa, in the flesh, wearing women’s clothes and she gasps at her lover’s beauty. Of course, Clarke knows that Lexa is a beautiful woman, but in female dress, even sports dress, she’s beyond breath-taking. Her flawless skin, long curling hair, exquisite jawline, the oh so long legs and the graceful feminine figure! Clarke is struck, as if by lightning and is only saved from an embarrassing lapse by Abby slapping her on the back and whispering in her ear “breathe, honey, breathe!” 

A ball boy carries the players’ racquets, towels and flasks of water. At the referee’s chair Lexa and her opponent Maria Le-Pen shake hands and then walk onto the court to start their warm up. 

The wonderful torture starts again as Lexa starts to move about the court. It’s just beautiful to watch her move! So fast, so powerful, so athletic, so graceful. Lexa wins the toss and chooses to serve first. This, according to Abby, whispering in Clarke’s ear, is a typical Lexa move because Lexa has one of the greatest overhand serves in the game and will expect to hold serve without too much difficulty. Abby is correct, Lexa throws the ball high in the air and with perfect coordination and skill pounds it into the forehand court of her opponent with such speed and at such an angle that it is an ace. Fifteen – Love is intoned by the referee. Her next serve into the backhand court is returned by Maria but although it is a well struck crosscourt ball, Lexa is already at the net and punches it away with a forehand volley that is unreturnable. Thirty - Love. The game continues and although Maria puts up some resistance to Lexa’s powerful serve and volley game, Lexa seems unstoppable; winning the match 6-2 6-4. Clarke does notice the score, but her attention is focused on Lexa’s easy grace as she moves, seemingly effortlessly, around the court. Chasing down the speeding tennis ball as soon as, or at times before, it leaves her opponent’s racquet. As the game finishes and the players leave the court Abby catches Clarke’s attention. “Honey I have to go now, but give Lexa my congratulations on her win.” Abby pauses for a second before continuing, “don’t be surprised if she’s not completely happy with her game today, she’s a perfectionist and she’ll have issues with how she served in the second set, so expect some disappointment and she may be a little stiff. I wonder does she have access to a good masseuse?” “Roma and Niko have already set up a regime of ice baths and massage Mom.” Abby smiles, gives Clarke a peck on the cheek and leaves for her shift at the infirmary. 

That Lexa has managed to fit in a rigorous training and practice regime, whilst also being part of the team staking out the House of Queen is, to Clarke, utterly amazing. The down side is she sees less of Lexa than she’d like; but they still go to their tango lessons on Wednesdays, eat supper with Antonio and Maria at Bonato’s afterwards and manage to steal some time together at either Clarke’s cottage or the Coppice a couple of times a week.

Saturday 1st March North Orange Drive Hollywood 2330

Lexa’s fast asleep on the camp bed, she’d taken the 1900 – 2300 hours shift and now it’s Penn sitting by the fifth-floor window, binoculars in hand peering through shutter slats, on watch until 0300 hours. The street outside is dark as there’s only the slimmest crescent of the waxing moon and a few stars to be seen and it’s deserted. The watched building itself is lightless and even the night watchman is not visible on his rounds. The lack of the night watchman is what seems strange. Penn’s read through the surveillance logs and taken a few night-shifts himself over the last weeks and every night between 1900 and 0700 the watchman, or his relief, checks the front and back entrances to the massive building at fifteen-minute intervals. Tonight, since Penn came on shift, there’s no sign of the watchman. Using a shuttered lantern Penn checks Lexa’s notes from earlier in the night. She’s listed the watchman’s patrols, every fifteen minutes the same as usual, but since 2300 there’s been no patrol. Penn hesitates, is it worth waking her, he decides not, she’s exhausted and needs all the sleep she can get. He watches and waits. 

There’s still not been a patrol and as midnight chimes Penn detects movement on the street, a small group of men, five or six of them, have gathered and are waiting in silence by the black painted back gate of House of Queen. He decides to wake Lexa, shaking her shoulder, whilst keeping his eyes trained on the dark street. In a moment she silently materialises by his side. In quiet whispers he explains the lack of patrols and the current movement in the street. Side by side they peer through their binoculars. The wicket door in the big back gate opens and all but one of the men slip inside, closing the wicket door behind them. Lexa whispers to Penn, “I’m going down to the street to get a closer look.” Then she’s gone, a quiet shadow dressed in black. Penn continues to watch as lights come on inside the big courtyard behind the gate and within a few minutes there’s the rumble of a big engine and a truck rolls slowly down the street. The man waiting outside the gate approaches it, he exchanges a brief greeting with the truck’s driver and at his knock the big back gates open wide. The truck, with its’ escort standing on the running board, rolls slowly forward into the yard and the gates swing shut. 

Penn hears a low creak, below and to his right. It’s Lexa, emerging onto the street, only just visible in the stars’ weak light. He trains his binoculars on her shadowy figure as silently she walks up to the now closed and deserted gate. At the wicket door she stops and peers through the small porter’s window into the courtyard within.

She’s only seen glimpses of the courtyard before now, as the back gate is usually kept shut and although the fifth floor gives them some sight of the yard, most of it is obscured by the high walls and an ornate Venetian style parapet. What she can see now is a spacious open area with a neatly cobbled surface and three sets of open warehouse doors. Electric arc lights illuminate the main yard area and part of the warehouses’ interiors. One warehouse looks to be filled with large refrigeration units, another holds a jumbled mass of furniture and what looks like broken mannequins and display cases. The truck is backed up, tailgate open, by the third, which is packed with row upon row of tea chests, stacked three high. The truck is carrying yet more tea chests and it’s obvious to the briefest of glances that they won’t all fit into the third warehouse, it’s at capacity already. The tea chests are being unloaded and are clearly heavy, it takes two men considerable effort to lift and carry each chest. Three chests are already on the floor by the third warehouse, ready to be wheeled inside on waiting sack trucks. 

A familiar, very tall figure, is directing operations and he starts pointing to the second warehouse; that is where he wants the rest of the chests to go. This sudden change in instructions confuses one of the men carrying a chest, he twists to see where he is being directed to now and Lexa winces as the weight of the chest he is carrying becomes unbalanced and in trying to compensate he slips on the cobbles and falls heavily onto his right knee with an agonised cry. As he falls he drops his end of the chest and there’s a horrible shrieking sound, as the thin wood of the tea chest twists and splinters; a whole side of the chest bursts open. Lexa can hardly believe her eyes when she sees bundles of money cascade onto the cobbles. It’s difficult to make out at that distance, but she thinks she sees bundles of twenty, fifty and even hundred-dollar bills. The very tall man strides over to the fallen man. “Reaper you fuck-wit stop whining and pick that shit up!” The man on his knees tries to rise but screams in agony and falls unconscious to the floor. “Fuck. Pick him up Caesar, toss him in the truck, he’s always been useless, get rid of him up by Fort Tejon.” Caesar, Lexa recognises him from the inferno at Dante’s, and another of the men pick up the unconscious Reaper and push him onto the truck’s tailgate before they go back to carrying tea chests into the second warehouse. The very tall man, whose strong features Lexa is trying to commit to memory, picks up the fallen money and stuffs it into a canvas bag he’s taken from the truck. 

Penn, on the fifth floor, can see that Lexa’s focused on the action in the courtyard, but he can see the whole street and that someone has just turned to cycle up North Orange Drive. The light from the approaching bicycle’s headlamp throws a focused yellowish beam onto the street as it approaches the House of Queen. Penn is torn, Lexa may not be visible to the cyclist if she stays in the shadows of the gate and the cyclist doesn’t deviate from their rather wobbly path up the centre of the street. He carefully opens the window’s shutter, well-oiled in anticipation of the need for silence and gives the alarm signal; the hoot of the great horned owl. He sees Lexa stiffen as she hears the signal; turning her head away from the porter’s window she spots the cyclist making his way up the street, with the yellow disc of light bobbing along the road’s rough surface. She turns her face into the painted wood of the gate and as best she can, becomes as one with it. The cyclist pedals up the street, wheels wobbling on the pocked surface, he’s whistling Lili Marlene. There’s a grunt as he hits a pot hole and the yellow disc swings crazily before steadying again and he keeps whistling as he passes the big black gates and cycles away into the quiet night. 

Inside the courtyard Caesar starts the truck’s engine and Lexa moves away from the gateway, melting into the night. Penn pulls the window shutter closed as the big gate opens and the truck heads out and up the street heading north. The gate shuts and quiet returns, so does Lexa to her vantage at the wicket door, but not for long. Penn sees her leap back from the window, run across the street and fling herself down a basement stair way. Only just in time, as the wicket door opens and five men walk out, they don’t speak as they walk down the street and as if by arrangement go their separate ways at the crossroads with Romaine. 

Monday 3rd March Hollywood PD 1500 hours

Anya’s out of uniform when she’s in the office these days. Her ribs are more comfortable in the softer structured man’s suit than her heavy stiff uniform and her wound, although healed, still gives her occasional twinges. She’s in her shirt sleeves and reading through surveillance logs when the telephone call from Indra comes through. Indra’s call is short and to the point, so Anya hurries to slip into the ‘special reinforced’ waistcoat that Raven made her and Anya promised, on her life, always to wear when working outside her office. On her way out she shrugs into her dark brown overcoat, tips her fedora to a jaunty angle and pockets her revolver; before collecting Penn and Spitz who are waiting for her on the street. A brisk walk takes them to Lincoln’s gym where Indra and Lexa are ‘training’. Lincoln’s with Ryder on surveillance at House of Queen, so it’s Octavia who takes them all through into the back room where Clarke and Bellamy and the others are waiting. Octavia closes the door and at Indra’s insistence locks it. Then she joins the group sitting around the billiard table that is currently serving as Lincoln’s desk. 

A hurried telephone call to Indra in the early hours of Sunday morning had led to the surveillance operation moving up in priority. Anya, just back from sick leave, joined the watch team along with Spitz the department photographer. The latest results of that surveillance are before them now; a substantial surveillance log, Lexa’s statement of what she saw on Sunday morning, William Sower’s statement, fifty high quality black and white photographs and police files on Caesar Greco and Franco Romeo. The latter identified by Lexa, with Penn’s help, as the very tall man she saw both at Mount Weather and House of Queen. 

Indra starts by emphasising the need for secrecy, reminding all that Hollywood PD is not without corruption, possibly even at the very top. She asks Octavia and Bellamy to give an overview of what it’s all about and House of Queen’s role. Octavia and Bellamy have spent time over the last couple of weeks examining all the surveillance records and every document they can get on the House of Queen and Nia. That the company is a fashion house of considerable reputation cannot be denied but it is also an important part in a massive money laundering operation. An operation that covers the whole country, not just LA, not just California but also has links to Chicago, New York and probably other big mob-controlled cities as well. Because House of Queen is just a shell, controlled by Nia, through which money flows in very high volumes. Money comes in, in old tea chests, as dirty cash from; drugs, booze, prostitution, protection, gambling and violent crime, and leaves clean; in the form of expensive high fashion clothing, jewellery, wages, expenses, investments, thousands of furs, real estate and technical equipment. Since 1926 the apparently failing business, that never pays shareholders a dividend, has cleaned millions of dollars through the business. The problem is, that with the huge ambitions of Nia Queen, Marco Ricci and the Peroni brothers, House of Queen can’t launder it all. They need more high turnover businesses that they can manipulate and put even more money through. Hence the need to put pressure on Top Flight Studios and Dante Wallace. 

Clarke explains the vulnerability of Top Flight to such manipulation. The coming of sound meant the studio needed cash, Gustus Trikru their greatest director with a reputation for hits, always runs massively over budget, Freddie Raspovic the studio’s biggest star is vulnerable to blackmail, Top Flight’s next big star, Claude Milan, isn’t proving as popular as they hoped and the final straw, Cage Wallace, Dante’s son and heir, is weak and easily manipulated by his wife Lorelei Tsing (they secretly married in Nevada two years ago.) 

The fly in the ointment was Dante, he was not going to give up control of his company to organised crime. He made mistakes; he fell for Nia and her scheming in 1923 when he invested over a hundred thousand dollars in her new company. Money he needed a few years later to invest in Top Flight Studios, but Nia didn’t allow him to get at that cash and gave him no return on his investment either. But even facing immense financial problems Dante fought on, he called in all his favours to get his movie friends to invest in Silent Sins, he got the film finished and it’s heading for success. So, they tried something else and that’s when the ambitious Maria Ocardi was brought in, as another form of leverage to be used against Top Flight.

Anya takes up the story; Maria didn’t realise what she was getting involved in, she just wanted to get on Gustus’ team and prove her ability as a designer. Her old friends in House of Queen gave her the means to blackmail Freddie and fulfil her ambition, but it was always part of the plan that she would die. Her death and the suspicion that could be cast upon Freddie Raspovic were to be the final straw for Top Flight. Except Dante’s friend Marion Davies hired Lexa Woods to work with Hollywood PD and look beyond the obvious tip off, that was to be so conveniently supplied to incriminate Freddie. In addition, Clarke Griffin at the Hollywood Echo was prepared to work with Lexa and Hollywood PD and didn’t publish the rumours about Freddie killing Maria. The rumours that were to destroy Top Flight never got out into the public domain. 

The failure of that plan is what led to Dante’s death as witnessed by Lexa. They wanted Cage in charge of Top Flight and Dante wouldn’t sign the papers giving it to him. 

This is where they are now; they just have to make sure they take down as many of the guilty as they can. If they move quickly they have the House of Queen on tax and money laundering charges. A quick raid will discover that the fashion company has a warehouse full of dirty money. Nia, Cece and maybe even Lorelei and Ontari would be implicated. But can Ricci and the Peroni brothers be brought down with them and can whoever ordered Maria’s and Dante’s deaths be brought to justice? 

Lexa now steps forward and directs the group to the evidence of William “the Reaper” Sower. She saw the Reaper put into the back of the truck driven by Caesar Greco when Franco Romeo ordered Caesar to dispose of him at Fort Tejon. Acting on what Lexa saw Penn and Ryder spent Sunday searching the old abandoned fort’s site looking for the Reaper’s body and maybe some evidence that could tie his death to Greco and Romeo. What they found was the Reaper, barely alive. The Reaper is now recovering and is a very angry man indeed. He’s keen to cut a deal and spill everything he knows about, Romeo, Ricci and the Peroni brothers. He’s been a low-level goon in Lucio Peroni’s pay for many years, so his knowledge is of actions rather than strategy but he was part of the team transporting money to the House of Queen for over a year and was at Mount Weather when Dante was killed. He knows names, locations and actions, he can bring down Lucio Peroni and damage Marco Ricci.

There’s a clicking sound outside the door, Lexa reacts first pulling Clarke to the floor as bullets start to tear through the door leading to the gym. Spitz turns a panicked and apologetic face to Indra “I’m sorry…” he doesn’t get the chance to say anything else as bullets tear into his chest. Anya, Indra and Penn drop to the floor and start to return fire with their service revolvers. The three of them push the billiard table onto its’ side to give them some cover from the bullets tearing through the shattered door.

Lexa crawls to the back door, a thirty-eight in her hand; she’s on her knees turning the handle ready to pull it open, when three men tumble in, seemingly unbalanced by the door opening so readily. Clarke’s watching Lexa and so she reacts first with two crisp shots from her semi-automatic striking the first of the three in the chest and face. Lexa throws her body backwards away from the door, but gets a shot off at the second man, it’s a lucky hit to his gun hand and his Tommy gun falls to the floor, Lexa’s second shot hits him in the temple. The third man finds himself on the floor as Octavia, grabs him around the knees and pulls him down; with Bellamy’s help she disarms him and gets a good punch in to his face, but then she shrieks in pain as a bullet hits her shoulder. Bellamy is there, immediately applying pressure to her wound. 

Lexa grabs the fallen Tommy gun and runs out of the back door, Anya follows, they want to get behind the attackers in the gym. Clarke sees Indra take a bullet to the thigh and crawls towards her to bind the wound, while Indra keeps firing; the volume of bullets fired has fallen and they can hear the sound of shouted instructions and guns being reloaded in the main body of the gym. 

Lexa and Anya run around the building, their light overcoats flapping the in breeze, one each side. Lexa surprises a couple of men sitting comfortably in the front seats of a big black Packard, Tommy guns across their laps and shoots them where they sit. She picks up one of their dropped Tommy guns and hands it to Anya when they meet at the front entrance to the gym. They exchange a quick look before throwing themselves through the gym doors and pouring sustained fire into the group of eight men who are all focused on firing through the ruined door into the back room. 

Clarke’s just finished tying off the rough bandage around Indra’s thigh when suddenly all firing into the back room stops. Penn, Indra, Clarke and Bellamy all look at each other and at the two doorways into the room. A familiar voice calls out. “It’s okay, we’ve got control out here and we’re sending for medical help and backup!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is nearly the end. I've had fun. Thanks to those who have left kudos.


	20. Final Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff. The final set of the final match of LA Tennis Club's Ladies Spring Cup 1930.

Chapter 20 

Saturday 8th March LA Tennis Club Melrose Ave LA 1400 hours

It’s the final set of the final match of LA Tennis Club’s Ladies Spring Cup between Lexa Woods and Madeleine (Madi) Flannery. Clarke sitting in the players’ box is close to a state of complete nervous collapse. Abby almost has no feeling left in her left hand, Clarke’s holding it so tightly, the score is level. 2-6, 6-4, 5-5. 

Madi and Lexa know each other well. Abby told Clarke that Lexa coached Madi, a local tennis phenomenon, when Madi was a junior player about four years ago. They both have similar styles, a strong serve and volley game but although Abby hasn’t said this to Clarke, she thinks Madi has a slight advantage through her wonderful ground strokes and relative youth, she is only 19 and Lexa is 30. 

It’s Madi to serve, she prepares, bouncing the ball twice before tossing it high into the air. Clarke glances at the other guests in the player’s box before returning her attention to the court. It’s quite a celebrity crowd, with Mae, Marlene, Charlie, Marion and Freddie all in attendance and earlier in the match she’d enjoyed a few words with the charming French woman sitting to her left. Suzanne Lenglen, the tennis legend, was lovely to Clarke, introducing herself and her companion Baldwin as old tennis friends of Lexa. She then signed a programme for a gushing and blushing Abby and as Clarke suffered agonies watching Lexa lose the second set it was Suzanne who said. “Do not lose heart, she is strong cheri; make sure that if she looks to you for strength that you smile your love to her. She needs it. Costia always looked away, embarrassed to show her love, poor girl. With you she has found a strong one, show her that strength.” Lexa doesn’t look up to the player’s box as a general rule, when she struggles she looks inward, her face showing no emotion but if she does look up Clarke will be ready. 

Madi wins her service game, the score 6-5 in the final set. Lexa now serves, for a second time, to stay in the match. Her first double fault of the match, the whole crowd sighs, Abby suffers agonies as Clarke crushes her hand. Love – fifteen. Lexa shows no emotion as she moves to the backhand court baseline and bounces the ball three times, serves a good solid deep angled serve Madi replies with a drop shot of all things, but Lexa is there with a deep lob, Madi tries to smash it but slips and nets the ball. Fifteen - All. Back in the forehand court it’s a good serve from Lexa but a superb passing shot from Madi leaves Lexa stranded mid court. Fifteen – Thirty. Lexa bounces the ball three times, serves and it’s long. Second serve. A kicking ball deep into Madi’s backhand, she tries for a passing shot down the line but Lexa anticipates and her half volley slams the ball to the back of the court well out of Madi’s reach. Thirty - All. Back to the forehand court and a good first serve, a crosscourt forehand from Madi, Lexa’s stayed on the baseline and powers a forehand down the line, Madi also on the baseline runs around her backhand and powers a stupendous forehand down the line, Lexa is there but her shot goes wildly into the crowd. She’s broken a string in her racquet. Thirty – Forty match point. Lexa walks to her chair and retrieves another racquet, carefully removing it from its’ press. As she walks back to the baseline she looks up to the players' box and there is Clarke, biting her lower lip as she smiles, her left hand is on her heart and her blue eyes are on Lexa. Lexa looks right back, nods her head and smiles. She bounces the ball three times and serves right down the centre service line, Madi can’t get a racquet to it, an ace. Forty – All. 

Clarke doesn’t really see the rest of the match, her eyes seem to be permanently unfocused and Lexa always claims she can never remember exactly how she won the last tournament of her tennis career. But win she did 8-10 in the final set. Madi and Lexa exchange sincere handshakes with each other and the umpire at the end of the match. Suzanne presents the cup to a beaming Lexa, whispering in her ear as they hug, “you’ve got the right one now ma cheri, make sure you keep her” and Clarke just smiles, smiles and smiles!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you, the end of lock-down is close and I think I am still sane.


End file.
